Vacation Town
by bicyclesarecool
Summary: Reeling and traumatized from the death of her father and her subsequent move across the country, Bella finds herself in a popular vacation spot-in the off season. Here, she meets Edward, a boy dealing with his own ghosts, who she can't help but feel drawn to. Their tentative relationship grows as they learn to face their fears and learn that things might not be hopeless after all.
1. Chapter 1

**Huuuuuge thanks to LayAtHomeMom for prereading this. Seriously.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

" _ **I miss the way things used to be  
It's okay, no one's around  
I'm off-season vacation town"**_

 _(the front bottoms)_

 **1.**

South Carolina is humid. Miserably humid.

Bella decides this the second she steps through the automatic doors of Charleston International Airport.

She's instantly sticky with sweat and can feel it dripping down her arm, getting trapped in the thick plaster of her cast and making the stitches on her forehead itchier than they usually are.

She tries to take a deep breath but it's oppressive. Back home, the air felt clean, crisp and cool. September here feels like a damp blanket.

She drops her duffle bag on the sidewalk by her feet in the only shady spot she can find, waiting for someone she recognizes. She wishes she would have bought a pair of sunglasses from one of those kiosks back inside, the sun is so bright it's giving her a headache.

Her mother, Renee, was supposed to meet her back home in Forks, to be there with her through the funeral and help her get the rest of her life together for a 3,000 mile move. It was just a few days of her time.

"I'm sorry, Bella," she'd said over the phone while Deputy Call stared at her from her bedroom doorway. "I just can't get away from work this week." Bella could hear her moving around on her end of the line, her mind already moving to whatever project she'd started.

Deputy Call shifted uncomfortably as she hung up, tossing her cell phone on her bed, hearing it smack against a stack of textbooks she still needed to return to school.

"She's not coming," she'd told him and his dark eyebrows pulled together, pity etched in every line of his face. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight more. "It's okay," she'd assured him.

But in all honesty, it wasn't. She was the owner of a tiny hotel, not the President of the United Fucking States.

Was Bella going to throw a tantrum about it? No. She was too tired. She's still too tired.

She just turned seventeen but she feels like she's already lived a lifetime-and-a-half.

Trauma does that to you, apparently.

Trauma also thrusts you into flashbacks when you hear a car horn nearby from a silver SUV pulling up to the curb.

The phantom sound of crunching metal rings in her ears as Renee makes her way around the front of the car, her smile huge.

She hugs her and Bella winces as Renee's arm squeezes her bruised rib, but her mother doesn't notice. She holds on for too long and only lets go when Bella tries to shrug her off of herself. Renee frowns as she pulls away, surveying the stitches on her daughter's face.

"Did they say if those are supposed to scar?"

Bella looks away, bile rising in her throat. _That's her biggest concern right now?_ She hasn't seen her in nearly three years and her entire life was just thrown up in the air and instead of helping to pick up the pieces, Renee is commenting on the mess.

"I don't know," Bella says, her voice scratchy. Renee lets her eyes linger on the angry red line on her forehead for a moment more before grabbing the duffle bag and making her way to the trunk.

"Is this all you brought?" she asks, glancing around the sidewalk near Bella's feet. She only nods, getting in the car to escape her scrutiny for just a moment. She's grateful for the air conditioning, bringing her face up to the vent on the dashboard and taking a shaky breath as Renee slides into the driver's seat. It's only a half-hour drive. Only one bridge. The sky is clear, the ground is dry.

It's going to be fine.

As they leave the airport, Renee's telling her all about how now that the busy season is over, they're going to be doing a lot of renovations on the hotel and Bella is tuning her out. She knows all of this, of course, having received detailed emails from her twice a week for the last six years, since she moved across the country from her. Bella watches the palm trees as they pass, evenly spaced out in front of fast food restaurants and shopping plazas.

"It doesn't look like much," Renee explains, "but coming from the airport isn't the most scenic route. The hotel is nice though, right near the water."

Bella considers telling her that being right near the water is the last thing she wants, but keeps it to herself, closing her eyes and focusing on the breathing exercises her therapist taught her during their brief, single session.

She's supposed to find a new shrink here.

The trip takes exactly thirty-four minutes and she doesn't even realize when they cross over the bridge onto the island, her eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it _hurts_.

The hotel, _Summer View Suites_ , is small compared to the chain hotels they passed, but is larger than the houses around it. Wooden shingles are painted bright pink and the shutters around the wide windows are teal. It's so bright it's jarring. The parking lot is relatively small and there's only three other cars in spaces, the building itself lifted above them on the familiar stilts that everything seems to sit on here.

Renee grabs Bella's bag from the back of the car and gestures for her to follow her up the stairs and into what she guesses is the lobby. It's a large room, made larger by the wide windows that show sand dunes and what must be the ocean hiding behind them. Bella shivers, though, she isn't sure if it's from the proximity to so much water or the fact that the air-conditioning is blasting. She surveys the room, drop cloths over much of it, chairs and tables and what have you, are covered in the paint-splattered fabric. It smells like fresh paint, the scent stinging Bella's nose.

"Phil came into some money recently," Renee offers as an explanation. "We're doing a ton of renovations before things pick back up again next summer."

Bella nods.

Phil. Her stepfather.

She met him _once_ , at the wedding, six years ago.

Right before they both moved away.

Renee keeps them moving, explaining how the hotel is set up: three floors of guest rooms, with 12 rooms total. There's a kitchen and small dining room on the first floor, right off the lobby and out back is a patio they throw parties on during the summer. The floors are all carpeted, rough and worn down from years of tread and the walls are wallpapered. Bella knows that her mother only bought the hotel a few years ago, but she figured with how busy she's saying she's been, she would have actually made more progress.

"Phil and I have a room on the first floor, back down the hallway by the kitchen," Renee continues talking, even as she pauses on the third floor, inspecting a flickering wall sconce.

"Where is, um, my room?" Bella asks, sounding small. Renee seems to break out of her tour-guide-trance and smiles sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, baby, you're probably exhausted," she says softly and Bella exhales, relieved. "Right this way." She leads her up a narrow set of stairs at the end of the hall, hidden behind a door.

'We don't use this floor much," she says and Bella can see why. There are some cracks in the walls and cobwebs are covering the exposed beams of the ceiling. The wood floors creak with every step she takes.

It's an attic.

"I know it's not much right now, since you're here on such short notice, but we'll get it all fixed up for you however you like. This is your space."

The walls are white, and there are white sheets on the bed covered by an old, ratty quilt.

"It's all I had for a full-sized bed. We can go get a duvet set soon."

"I like this," Bella says quietly, running her fingers over the raised embroidery on some of the faded squares of fabric.

"It's ancient, your grandmother made it during her RV years," Renee tells her offhandedly, watching her drop her bag on top of it.

"There's a bathroom right down the stairs in the room across the hall. No one's checked into that one, but we're working on converting the supply closet on that floor into a bathroom for you. Speaking of which the contractors should be here any minute, I'm going to go wait for them. Make yourself comfortable." She turns to leave but says over her shoulder, "I'm glad you're here, Bella."

Bella swallows thickly, not being able to return the sentiment as her mother walks away. She waits until she hears her footsteps leave the stairs and disappear completely as she reaches the carpeting.

She takes survey of her "room." There's a small armoire in the corner and a table and chair under a round window facing the beach. Above the sand dunes now, there isn't anything to block the view. The green-blue water is calm, far as the eye can see. She feels nervousness clawing its way into her stomach. She's going to need to get a curtain.

She tears herself away from the window, using her good arm to start to unpack her duffle. Since the weather is so different on the island, most of the clothes she had were useless. She donated them before she left, though she couldn't dare part with the old sweaters her dad had, the ones he'd wear when he drank his coffee out on the back porch on Sunday mornings.

"This is my favorite kind of quiet," he'd said once on a rare occasion she'd joined him. The sun hadn't quite reached that side of the house and the shade left everything covered in frost.

Her dad always said that there were different kinds of silence. There was the back porch, wind-blowing-through-the-trees quiet. There was fishing-off-the-docks quiet. The bad kind of quiet, the kind when the squad would run into something heavy at work and no one quite knew what to say.

In her new room in South Carolina, only hearing the hum of the AC throughout the hotel, Bella finds a new kind of quiet.

A lonely kind.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

One of the things her therapist told her to do was to start keeping a journal, to help her sort through her thoughts. She'd been told that she can write as many negative things as she wants, she can vent and vent and vent, but she needs to include a positive thing as well. Something about finding the good in every situation.

She's yet to make an entry.

But still, Bella's sorting through the few notebooks she brought with her when Phil knocks on the bedroom door.

The sound makes her jump.

"Come in," she says, hating how uncertain her voice sounds. He pushes the door open slowly and makes his way up the stairs, looking awkward and about as uncomfortable as Bella feels. He takes his hat off, one that has the a nearby high-school's mascot on it. It's his team, the one he coaches for now. His light hair is starting to thin and some of his stubble is graying, but he's still as handsome as she remembers.

"Hey, Bella," he says, stepping forward. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

She's thrown a little bit so her response takes a moment, "I'm okay, thank you."

"I know, ah, that we don't know each other very well but I just wanted to let you know that I'm here if you need anything."

Her throat tightens at the sentiment and she can only nod.

"I'm sorry that things are so hectic here today," he continues. "There's so much your mother is trying to do at once. You know how she is."

"I understand," she says softly, looking down at the book in her hands.

He laughs at his own private joke, and Bella appreciates his attempt at trying to help, offering a small smile as a thanks.

The silence that falls between them becomes too uncomfortable for him, she can see it in the way he fidgets, his fingers drumming on the bill of his cap, his eyes avoiding her stare. He finds escape when Renee calls his name from the foot of the stairs. He ducks out of the room, shrugging apologetically.

Bella opens one of the notebooks, spiral bound with a flimsy green cover. She picks up a pen and scribbles onto the first blank page.

 _The good: Phil is nice._

 _The bad: everything else._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **Here we go! I can't promise a regular update schedule at this point, but I'm excited about this thang.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I owe this chapter to LayAtHomeMom and her unrivaled gif game.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **I'm scared to be living by the ocean**_

 _ **The waves hit me like I'm at the beach**_

 _(the front bottoms)_

 **2.**

Bella's first morning at _Summer View_ is marred by the cold sweat of a nightmare. She hadn't fallen asleep until well after five, her mind and heart racing.

The home screen on her phone tells her that it's just after ten. She grabs her clothes for the day, just a t-shirt and yoga pants. She isn't quite sure how she's supposed to dress here. Luckily, she doesn't run into anyone on her way to the bathroom, quickly passing through the empty guest room and into the light of the tiled bathroom. Her shower is spent raising her cast out of the spray, even though it's technically waterproof, she hates how it feels before it dries.

Her stomach growls, having not eaten anything but a few granola bars yesterday and once she's dressed, she squares her shoulders, preparing herself to go find some food, sure to run into her mom or Phil or who knows who else.

According to Renee, the only current guests are an elderly couple who usually spend a few weeks at the hotel in the fall.

She's trying to be quiet, but the building is so old that no matter how lightly she steps, the floor groans and creaks with her movements.

"Well hello there!" A friendly voice calls from the front of the lobby. Bella wants to duck into a closet or something, but she turns toward the sound. Leaning over the reception desk is a grinning blonde woman, probably not much older than she is.

"You must be Bella," she says, a little bit of a southern accent drawing out the _ellllll_ of her name. "I'm Rosalie, I work reception, among other things."

"Hi," Bella says quietly. Rosalie's smile softens.

"I won't keep you, but if you ever get bored, I always have the good channels on out here." She gestures to where a TV should be mounted on the wall. "Well, once they're all done with the room," Rosalie laughs, disappearing back behind the desk.

Not wanting to wait for Rosalie to say anything else, Bella escapes down the hall, past her mother's suite and straight into the dining room, which is thankfully empty. She slips through the door that leads to the kitchen and lets out a breath, going straight for the fridge.

She settles for yogurt and some already cut-up fruit, no doubt leftovers from the breakfast for guests.

And then, she smells _coffee_.

She's flooded with relief at the smell, abandoning the fridge and the yogurt completely.

At the far end of the room is a full pot of coffee and much to Bella's embarrassment, a guy sipping from a mug, watching her.

He moves out of her way as she starts looking for a mug of her own, opening cabinets and coming up empty. Wordlessly, he reaches around her, opening one that's far out of her reach.

He's close to her, _too close_ , and she holds her breath while he pulls a yellow mug out and sets it down in front of her.

"Thanks," she says, her voice nearly a whisper. He hums his acknowledgement and steps away, the heat from his body gone as quickly as it came.

She pours her coffee, and uses her peripheral vision to scope him out, watching him lean against the counter across the room. He's tall, at least a foot taller than her, and his skin has the fading remnants of a summer tan. His eyes are light, though she can't tell what color, and his auburn hair is long enough that it curls around the edges of his baseball cap. Dirty t-shirt, dirty jeans, boots beat to hell.

 _Contractor?_

Once her coffee is poured, she moves back to getting food, trying to ignore his presence and go about her day.

Unfortunately she keeps forgetting about her fucking broken arm and can't carry everything at once, and lets out a frustrated sigh.

She still has another six weeks with the cast on and god knows how long with it in a sling. She doesn't even want to think about dealing with it at school.

 _Fucking school._

If Bella had any choice, she'd do online school or something just to spare her being thrust into a new place with new people with all these stupid, visible injuries and all the stupid, invisible ones.

The whole thing just makes her...tired.

Scared.

She abandons her thoughts and her food and makes her way out into the dining room, setting her coffee down on a table before heading back for the rest of her things.

But the man from the kitchen is already coming towards her, bowl of fruit in one hand and yogurt in the other. He's even got silverware.

 _Must be nice to have the use of both hands,_ she thinks bitterly.

"Oh, thank you," she says aloud, feeling kind of pathetic.

He gives her a small smile.

And _what_ a smile it is.

One side of his mouth turns up more than the other, revealing a dimple, the skin around his eyes crinkling just slightly. As he nears her, she can see that his eyes are green. Quiet, fir tree green.

His eyes make her homesick.

"Broken bones suck," he tells her. "My leg was in a cast for a while a few years ago."

"Oh," she says lamely as he sets her food on the table next to her.

That warmth is there again.

It stays until he's gone, checking his watch as he heads out of the dining room and disappears down the hall.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

After she's eaten and rinsed her dishes, she grudgingly heads back out into the hall. She doesn't know quite what to do with herself.

Renee's voice carries around the entire ground floor, even over the sounds of power tools.

The man from the kitchen is there, removing the light fixture from the ceiling while an older, light-haired man is listening to Renee with an amused smile, like the guy from the kitchen's but bigger. Easier.

Bella wonders if they're related.

"...there just isn't enough space," he's telling her, wiping a hand across his brow.

"But that wall!" Renee whines, exasperated, pointing right in Bella's direction.

"That wall is load bearing, we can't tear it out," he explains calmly. "We'll figure something out, don't worry."

"I'm always worrying, you know me," she laughs.

"I know, I know," he chuckles along.

They're interrupted by his younger, green-eyed coworker saying, "Dad, can you take this?"

 _Yep, related._

He hands the light fixture down to his father slowly, his forearms flexing with the weight. He must catch Bella's staring because his eyes meet hers briefly.

Unfortunately, Renee catches her too.

"Oh, Bella! I'm so sorry, things have been so hectic this morning or I would have gotten you breakfast-"

"It's okay," Bella interrupts, trying to stop the frantic flow of words. "I got something from the kitchen."

"Okay, good." Renee looks around, as if Bella has completely thrown her through a loop. "Did you meet Rose yet?"

Bella nods and sees Rosalie poke her head out from her spot at reception at the sound of her name.

"She's a doll," Renee says, loud enough for Rosalie to hear. "This is Carlisle, the amazing man who is dealing with me through all these renovations."

The light-haired man, Carlisle, gives a friendly _hello_.

"And his son, Edward."

He nods at her, his friendly smile from before is gone, just a ghost on his mouth.

"This is my daughter, Bella, finally here to live with me," Renee continues, nearly sounding happy about it.

Like, completely ignoring the whole reason why Bella is actually there.

Doesn't mention that _she'd_ left her daughter 3,000 miles away and that it would still be that way if not for the accident.

She makes it sound like Bella _decided_ to move to this fucking island.

Bella can feel Edward's eyes on her as her own burn with hot, angry tears. She flinches when her mother tries to put an arm around her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I, um, I have to go."

And then she's making her way out the door, out into the warm sunshine, trying to keep her breathing even.

She doesn't know where she's going, just combating tears and trying not to scratch the stitches on her forehead right out of her skin. She could let one sob out, her throat aches to do so, but she knows if she starts, she won't be able to stop.

She's fast-walking down the path behind the house, climbing up the stairs that would take her over the sand dune. She can hear the ocean, waves crashing on the shore. Anxiety knots in her chest, but she keeps going until she's at the top, and can see the ocean go on forever at the horizon. The beach is empty, save for a few seagulls and the space is too large. She doesn't want it, she wants to go to the forest, she wants to go back to her small house at the end of the main road in Forks.

She wants her dad.

But she'll never see him again, she was at the memorial service, she even helped spread his ashes at his favorite fishing spot.

The overwhelming feeling of loss hits her again, right in the ribs, in the stomach, in the throat.

As much as she fights it, Bella starts to cry.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: coffee._

 _The bad: this is a fucking joke._


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you thank you thank you to LayAtHomeMom for pre-reading this**

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Moving on was a chore I was never quite ready for**_

 _(you, me, and everyone we know)_

 **3.**

Victoria James had been planning her death for a while, according to investigators. Her house in Clallam Bay was all packed up, her belongings separated neatly into boxes.

Shoes (size 8) - _to donate_

Antique silverware - _to send to Mom_

Divorce papers - _signed_

Suicide note - _meticulously written_

Victoria had been scoping out ideal places in the area-secluded but not enough so that she would go undiscovered for too long. She wanted there to be a river, a bridge, a failsafe.

If the crash didn't kill her, the water would.

The bridge over the Sol Duc River coming into Forks on the 101 seemed as good a place as any. So that night, Victoria drank a bottle of vodka and got behind the wheel of her car, speeding to the bridge. When she reached it, when she got the courage to swerve into what was supposed to be the guardrail, she plowed into a police cruiser, one that she hadn't seen come around the bend. She was going so fast and wasn't wearing a seatbelt, she didn't even need her SUV to go into the river like she'd planned. She was dead before she could see the cruiser break through the metal rail, and plunge into the dark, rushing waters of the Sol Duc.

Bella has taken to googling information about the case, trying to make sense of it, to find a reason for why her entire life had to fall the fuck apart. There was an article online that appeared the same day as her father's obituary. Victoria's husband had left her for a younger woman he had gotten pregnant. His interview was spent defending his decision to leave her, _"she was insane, totally unbalanced. I wish I could say I'm surprised about all of this, but frankly, I'm not_."

Bella knows that he's an asshole, and part of her _, the angriest part_ , blames him for all of this. His inability to keep his dick in his pants killed her father and ruined her entire life. He never mentions either of them in the article, just his _crazy ex_ and how much grief _she's_ put him through. It's not fucking fair they got dragged into this bullshit soap opera.

She and Charlie Swan just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Collateral damage.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Dinner after her meltdown had been uncomfortable, but luckily, everyone was gone except for Renee and Phil. No one mentioned her practically running from the room, even though her face was swollen and tearstained for the rest of the evening. Renee talked all about the renovations while Phil _uh-huh_ 'd and _mhm_ 'd and Bella pushed salmon and rice around on her plate.

Now though, finally alone in her room, Bella traces her finger across the embroidery on her grandmother's quilt. Her favorite square has a map of Texas on it, filled with stars marking the cities her grandmother had visited.

Bella had only met her a few times, she died when she was nine, but she liked her enough. She always had a bag of M&Ms in her purse.

She wants an RV and not be afraid to be in it, she wants to go to all these places in Texas. She wants to be anywhere but here.

School looms on the horizon. It's Friday so she still has a couple of days... but still.

Tomorrow, she has to go shopping.

"We can make the drive to the mall," Renee had said, taking bites of her salmon at dinner earlier. "It's about forty minutes, though."

Bella must have visibly paled because Phil cleared his throat and Renee backtracked. "But of course, there are a bunch of cute little shops around here. I'm sure we can find everything you need."

While the thought of not having to be in a car is comforting, spending the day shopping for, well, everything with Renee is daunting. They haven't spent any real time together since Bella was young.

"I'll take you by the school, too. It's not far if you want to walk there. Maybe we could find you a bike…"

Bella didn't even bother pointing out her cast.

What was the point?

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

When Renee said that there were shops on the island, she failed to mention that they were mostly for tourists. Bella doesn't need any t-shirts decorated with dolphins or seashell necklaces.

Thankfully, a secondhand shop two is only blocks from the hotel and even though Renee makes a face when they step inside, Bella is relieved. Back home, she shopped exclusively at Goodwill.

Nineties soft rock is playing over the speakers and Bella tries to not feel claustrophobic with how closely her mother is hovering.

Bella's style has never been trendy. She sticks to oversized sweaters and jeans and boots. But with the weather the way it is here (it doesn't dip below 50 degrees much even in the dead of January) she's going to have to figure something else out. She's got a few t-shirts already at home and some favorite jeans and even a raincoat.

She really doesn't need much.

But Renee is pulling things off the rack, skirts and blouses and frilly tank tops.

"This is so you," she says, holding a deep blue dress at her. And Bella can't help but think, _how would you know?_ She lets Renee pick out all the clothes for her that she wants, settling on some very different outfits herself.

She drifts through the back aisles, with all the dusty knick-knacks and furniture. Empty picture frames line entire rows of shelves and she wonders when the next time she'll take a frame-able photo will be, or if her walls will stay blank forever.

She isn't optimistic about her chances of making friends. Bella already went to a small town high school, she knows that everyone has known each other forever and that she'll be put under a microscope.

She isn't sure if she even wants to make friends.

In Forks, she only really hung out with Jake, the son of one of her dad's friends, and Angela, who had graduated already and was off at U-dub. Bella's gotten a few texts from Jake but she hasn't been able to bring herself to reply.

"You all set, baby?" Renee asks. Bella nods, following her to the register, leaving the frames behind.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Bella doesn't want to ride in her mom's car, but they can't get the stuff for her bedroom back to the hotel any other way. It's a five minute drive but fuck, she's scared. Terrified. Eyes squeezed shut.

She doesn't care about comforters or throw pillows or lamps, she just wants to get out of this fucking car.

Renee either doesn't notice Bella's panic, or chooses to ignore it, for which Bella is grateful. She's embarrassed about it all, about not being able to pull in an easy breath.

She'd been learning to drive back home, hoping to take her test before Christmas. Her dad talked about finding her a cheap car so she could drive herself to school and work and anywhere else she wanted to go.

She thinks that she'll never learn to drive, now.

She lets her mom guide her through the home goods store. She picks out new sheets but refuses a new comforter, wanting to keep using her grandmother's quilt. She gets thick curtains to block her view of the ocean and string lights to keep her company late at night. She gets a clothing rack to hang what little she has on, and she watches Renee sort through throw pillows for far too long.

Bella is almost excited, however, to pick out a poster of a Frida Kahlo self-portrait and a dying fern she finds in the clearance section.

Renee looks on with disapproval and not even a little bit of understanding but Bella starts to feel better.

Better enough that the car ride home doesn't thrust her into a panic attack.

When they arrive back at the hotel, the contractors-Carlisle and his son-offer to help carry stuff upstairs to Bella's room.

She clutches her fern to her chest as she follows Renee and Carlisle, Edward taking up the rear.

In her room, Renee sets everything down haphazardly, distracted by something Carlisle mentions about the wall issue they'd discussed earlier in the week.

The two of them leave but Edward hovers in the doorway, looking around the sparse room as Bella steps over bags to place her fern near her bed.

"This is bleak," he says, staring at the white walls and the unfinished ceiling.

Bella doesn't know what to say. Her entire life feels fucking bleak.

Edward lets her silence hang around them for just a moment before he asks, "do you need help putting any of this away? Won't be easy with the cast."

She's torn, not wanting his pity at her helplessness, but she likes having someone else near her, to fill up some space with warmth and noise.

So, she thanks him and he helps her change the sheets and puts her curtains up while she tosses pillows on the bed, already annoyed with them. Her fern goes on her bedside table, situated under a new lamp. Bella runs her fingers along the wilted leaves.

"I have some masking tape downstairs," Edward says. "I can go get it if you want to figure out where you want this poster to go."

He hangs the poster on the wall next to the wardrobe, right across from the bed. They stand together, studying it for a long moment, and she revels in the feel of his body heat, the sound of his breathing.

"Much better," he tells her, looking around. She has to agree.

"Thank you, for everything," she says softly. She hasn't used her voice in so long.

His smile is small, but it lights up the room.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: I might be able to keep this plant alive_

 _The bad: I might not._


	4. Chapter 4

**As always, thank you LayAtHomeMom xo**

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Words make less sense to me these days**_

 _ **Faces look flat and unfamiliar**_

 _(slothrust)_

 **4.**

Rosalie tells Bella that she needs to bring a sweater or jacket or _something_ to school.

"Those rooms are always so cold. I swear, it's like an icebox in there."

Bella looks at her outfit, her scuffed boots and well-worn jeans. It took everything in her to not wear her dad's old Seattle Mariners t-shirt, and she's relieved at the opportunity to wear one of his sweaters. It's old, the wool faded and a couple of buttons missing, but it's her favorite.

She doesn't see her mom that morning, which is fine by her. She's got her backpack, a copy of her transcript just in case, and three sharpened pencils.

"Good luck," Rosalie calls to her as she's heading outside, into the muggy morning air. The sun is barely up.

Bella considers just...not going.

She lingers in the parking lot when a truck pulls up, Carlisle and Edward yawning into their fists. Edward catches her eye and touches two fingers to his forehead in a little salute.

She fights a smile and starts the walk to school.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rosalie was right, the building is freezing. Even in her sweater, she bounces her legs in an attempt to get warm while she waits for an administrator to give her a schedule of classes. She got there early enough so that she wouldn't run into any of her peers, but now, she can hear the growing volume of voices, signaling that the day is about to begin.

She's impatient, not wanting to be late to first period, drawing even more attention to herself than she's already expecting. Thankful for the sweater covering her cast, she feels like she looks almost normal. She lets her hair fall over her eyes, over the stitches in her forehead that are itching worse than they ever have before. She has a doctor's appointment after school tomorrow, maybe they'll be removed.

When she finally gets her schedule, the receptionist stops her on her way out of the office.

"One of our student council members is going to give you a little tour during home room," she explains. "She should be here any moment now."

So, Bella waits even longer, sitting in a window fronted room, watching her new classmates filter through the hallway past her. Some of them see her, pointing and whispering to their friends, though most don't, they just push past, like she's not even there.

X

X

X

The student council member in charge of her tour is a short, wispy girl with messy dark hair that falls a little past her ears. She's wearing a stylish leather jacket and a feminine skirt, flip flops on her feet with pink painted nails. When she shakes Bella's hand, she smiles genuinely and does not look at her stitches or comment on the stiffness of her arm.

"I'm Alice," she tells her, her voice high and light and kind. Bella's own voice is garbled, so much so that she has to clear her throat before she can even say her name.

Thankfully, Alice does all the talking. She doesn't ask where Bella is from or why she's suddenly here or any of those other things Bella had been worrying about having to discuss.

She only confirms that, "you're a junior, too, right?"

They walk through the halls, Alice holding onto Bella's schedule as they dodge straggling kids who are nearly late to class.

"Your homeroom is right there," Alice explains, pointing haphazardly to a door on the left. "And usually the lockers are all assigned alphabetically, but since you're new, you're stuck in the freshman hallway. It's nice because it's pretty central to everything, but you're, you know, surrounded by fourteen year old boys," Alice laughs.

She makes Bella try the combination before they move on, talking animatedly about things they pass in the halls-signs for an upcoming dance ("I'm trying to get one of my brother's friends to go with me, but he graduated a couple of years ago and says it's stupid. I already have my dress though, I don't mind going stag") or canned food drives ("for a really good cause, Mr. Berty organizes it every year"). Alice shows her each of the classrooms on her schedule, though the school isn't that big and Bella thinks that she won't get _too_ lost when she's on her own.

"Homeroom is almost over, I can walk you to your English class," she says, staring at the paper in her hand.

"Thank you," Bella tells her. "For all of this."

Alice beams. "I like, never get to do this tour-no one new _ever_ comes to this town, so, thank _you_."

Bella likes Alice-she's friendly and outgoing but not in a way that intimidates her and not in a way that makes it seem like she's trying too hard.

When the bell rings and the halls start to fill up again, Alice wishes her luck and assures her that everyone is "really, super nice" and would be happy to help if she gets lost.

"Oh!" Alice says, as if forgetting herself. "If you need a place to sit at lunch, you're welcome to sit with me! I'll wait for you by the cafeteria."

At this, Bella could cry with relief, but she only nods, watching her new kind-of-friend disappear into the crowd.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Besides the other students staring, school is nothing special or particularly terrifying.

Most of the teachers introduce her, not making her say anything herself-though her Chemistry teacher forces her to stand up and tell them a little about her.

What could she say?

 _Hi, my dad died and I almost did, too and so now I'm living_ here _kind of wishing I_ had _drowned in that river._

"Hi, I'm Bella, um, I'm from Washington. My mom runs a hotel in town here."

No one really talks to her in class, though they stare and gossip behind their cupped hands. Bella burns under the scrutiny and counts down the seconds until she can escape, though the thought of going back to the hotel doesn't feel much like a reprieve.

Once it's time for lunch, seeing Alice waiting for her by the double doors is enough to get Bella to actually smile.

"That bad, huh?" Alice laughs, reading something in the relief plain on Bella's face.

"I mean, not really too bad, I guess," she sighs, following Alice into the cafeteria, the smell of greasy food makes her stomach growl.

They get pizza and Alice introduces her to the people sitting at her usual lunch table, names being thrown at her that she knows she won't remember by the end of the period.

The others are nice enough, though one of the girls, almost as short as Alice with a permed-looking mess of brown hair and a nasally voice-Jessica, Bella thinks-sips her Diet Coke suspiciously.

"What happened to your face?"

"Jess!" Alice grits out, looking totally appalled. Bella's entire face turns red, mid bite into her pizza.

The rest of the table falls silent, their eyes trained on her, waiting for her to explain.

Bella chokes out, "Car accident," and can feel Alice stiffen next to her.

"Gnarly," Jessica says. "Speaking of car accidents, Alice, how's your brother doing?"

Alice frowns in distaste, obviously annoyed as she tells her, "he's fine, Jess."

"Oh, I _know_ he's _fine_ ," Jessica sighs dreamily, winking at Bella. "Alice's brother is _so_ hot."

"Gross," Alice grumbles and Bella can feel the uncomfortable tension growing between them.

"Leave her alone, Jess," some blonde guy laughs. Matt maybe? Mike?

Jessica rolls her eyes, but takes a bite of her wilted salad. Matt/Mike turns to Bella, his blue eyes friendly and says, "I'm in your Chem class. What hotel does your mom run? My parents own a sporting goods store, you know like, kayaks and fishing poles and stuff. Us local business kids have to stick together."

"Um, that's cool," Bella tells him. "She and my stepdad own _Summer View Suites_."

Jessica laughs, "that place is such a dump."

Bella suddenly feels the need to defend her mom-not that she really deserves it, but that protective feeling creeps up her spine.

"Yeah, it's pretty torn up right now, they're doing a ton of remodeling," she says, leveling Jessica with a tone of faux friendliness. Alice perks up.

"Oh my god, I think my dad is doing a lot of the reno work-Carlisle? Carlisle Cullen?"

Bella grins and nods, "He's so nice. Does that mean that Edward is your brother?"

"Yep. I apologize for any rude thing he's said to you and anything he might say in the future. He's a total dick these days."

"Total _hottie_ ," Jessica interjects.

Bella can't help but feel confused. _Rude_? Edward has been nothing but kind to her every single time they've spoken.

She laughs uncomfortably for lack of anything else to say, trying to imagine the boy who helped her set up her bedroom being a dick to anyone.

Except maybe Jessica. She hopes he's a dick to Jessica.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The temptation to run upstairs and lock herself away is strong when Bella gets back to the hotel, her fingers crossed that no one is in the lobby.

Rosalie is still at her post, though, and she waves her down with an excited squeal.

"Look how nice this new TV is! And there are so many channels!" she's gesturing excitedly to the large flat-screen mounted to the wall across the room, already softly playing a daytime talk show.

"Wow," is all Bella says, unable to match Rosalie's enthusiasm even a little bit. She shifts her backpack on her shoulder, waiting to be released. Rosalie grins.

"I know you probably have a ton of assignments to catch up on, but if you want company, there's an extra chair back here. I'm sure Em is bored as hell in the kitchen and would make us some snacks."

"Em?"

"Emmett, my husband, he's the cook here. I'm sure you'll meet him soon. He's the best, though I might be a little biased."

Bella's chest constricts at the thought of meeting yet another person and quickly excuses herself, escaping to her attic-like room.

But it's too dark, even with all the lights on. Too quiet. She looks at the Frida Kahlo poster and it stares back, unflinching.

In the end, she finds herself in the seat next to Rosalie, half watching _Dr. Phil_ while she works slowly through math problems. It's nice, to be near someone who isn't expecting her to talk, who doesn't push her, much like Alice. The only sounds are the TV and Rosalie's occasional gasps at the drama unfolding in front of them, and somehow, that's enough.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: some people are nice_

 _The bad: who cares_


	5. Chapter 5

**LayAtHomeMom's the bomb dot com y'all**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **But he's too gone**_ _ **t**_ _ **o open up**_ _ **  
**_ _ **Just like punching walls**_

 _ **it always hurts 'cause it never gives enough**_

 _(soccer mommy)_

 **5.**

School is purgatory. Not awful, but not good. Jessica is either a complete bitch on purpose or just has no filter or tact. Bella's teachers don't give her any leniency, she's expected to be caught up by the end of her first week on current assignments.

Alice is her only ally. Always unfailingly kind and helpful, she feels like she could be an actual, real-life friend-something Bella didn't know she was so desperate for until she got here.

She spends most days after school with Rosalie at the reception desk, the channels going between talk shows and _Law and Order_ reruns depending on the day. Rosalie is a huge gossip, Bella comes to find out, and has plenty to say on everyone in town.

It takes a lot of prodding to get Bella to divulge any details about her time at school and her classmates, but after a particularly weird episode of _Dr. Phil_ , Bella mentions Jessica.

"Stanley?" Rosalie asks, her eyes already mid-roll. "I used to babysit that girl. She was a brat then and she's a brat now."

This makes Bella have to swallow a grin as Emmett comes into the room. She met him soon after her first day at school, taken aback by his muscle-bound arms, dark, curly hair and his infectious smile. Rosalie wasn't biased-Em _is_ the best, always cracking jokes and bringing them samples of new menu items. Bella likes seeing him and Rosalie together, their easy magnetism, their playful bickering.

She feels at home with the two of them, more so than she does with her mom and Phil, who she rarely sees. Renee is usually in some part of the hotel, micromanaging Carlisle or she's at the store picking out new bedding for guest rooms and shell-shaped soaps. Phil works late, even though baseball season is over. He's an assistant coach for basketball now.

So, Bella finds herself at the desk, too nervous to spend much time alone. She likes having others around to occupy her thoughts without needing her participation.

Edward Cullen is another frequent visitor, stopping on his way out the door or on his way back to work. He's almost always covered in something-paint, drywall dust, grout. He leans against the desk and asks questions about whatever they're watching on TV and eating any food Emmett's left for them.

He puts a fried pickle in his mouth and asks, "Why is this girl screaming at this dude so much?"

Eats a spoonful of fruit salad and muses, " _SVU_ is the best _Law and Order_."

Sips coffee and asks Bella her plans for Halloween.

She blinks at him.

 _Halloween? Already?_

She shrugs, trying her best to hold his gaze. But it's hard, with blue paint across the bridge of his nose like freckles and the familiar green of his eyes.

Rosalie perks up and says, "Oh, didn't anyone mention the block party?"

"Block party?"

"It's a tradition," Edward interjects. "Main Street gets closed off and the whole island comes. They have trick or treating for the kids, booze for the adults. Costume contests. A potluck. It's usually fun."

Bella swallows hard. Halloween wasn't something she and her dad celebrated-he almost always had to be on duty and she ended up trick or treating with a friend and their family. They did have their own traditions though, him thoroughly checking her candy in the morning for razor blades and askew wrappers. If it was a weekend, they'd watch Scooby Doo and eat Snickers bars for breakfast. If it was a school day, they would eat it for dinner.

This Halloween will be the first one without him-the first holiday without him. Her eyes burn.

"I, um, don't know. I'm still trying to get caught up at school," she lies, the shakiness of her voice fading with every word. "I'll probably have homework."

He studies her face, his thick brows drawn together, but he smiles gently.

"Well, don't work too hard."

"I'll try," she says so softly, she isn't sure if he hears.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Bella helps Emmett prep food for the potluck, chopping red onions while he mashes avocados. He's carved a pumpkin in a way that has a wide-open mouth.

"The pumpkin's throwin' up and the guacamole is the puke," he explains with a grin. She shakes her head, fighting her own smile. She doesn't have any assignments to work on, most of her teachers just wrote _have fun tonight!_ on their boards under homework so she doesn't actually have any excuse not to go to the party. When Alice asked if she wanted to go together, what could she say? _Sorry, I'm too sad?_

So, her plan is to help Emmett and Rosalie carry food over and meet Alice if she feels up to it. As low-pressure as she can manage.

"Has Rose mentioned what costume she's wearing tonight?" Emmett asks, scooping the chopped onions into the green mush.

Bella shakes her head. All week Rosalie had been on her computer at the desk, sifting through costume ideas.

"I want to be unique without being too out there, you know?" she'd said, scrolling past pictures of sexy witches. "Emmett always goes as some character, like Superman or Jon Snow and he does it so well. Meanwhile, I'm always in something I think is cool and then I see ten other girls wearing the same thing."

"She always does this. Obsesses over making something and changing her mind too many times to actually do it-she always ends up with something store bought," Emmett says at Bella's response.

When they finish up making the food- guacamole and tortilla chips as well as red-dyed deviled eggs, Emmett tells her to get ready, and to meet back in fifteen.

"Will that be enough time?" he asks, glancing at his watch.

"Absolutely," she assures him. She doesn't have a costume anyway. She just needs some time to breathe.

She takes her time in the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and practicing the breathing exercises she'd learned. Studying herself in the mirror, she can't help but focus on the raised line on her forehead, puckered and pink and too big to hide. They'd told her, in the hospital that she'd lost a lot of blood. Head injuries bleed a lot, apparently. She runs a finger over it, cringing at how wrong it feels.

Her arm isn't much better, still wrapped in a cast but underneath, it's no doubt pale and too thin and covered in scars from not only the shattered glass that embedded itself in her skin, but from the surgery to correct her fractured forearm as well.

It's ugly- _she's ugly_ and it's a constant fucking reminder of everything she's been through. Not only for her, but for everyone around her.

Her classmates are getting sick of her avoidance tactics, they want to know the whole story. They look at her forehead when they talk to her. The simple phrase "car accident" doesn't explain why she's here. It doesn't explain why she refuses rides from her peers when they slow down next to her in their Jeeps and Civics on the way home from school. It doesn't explain why she won't hang out with any of them at all-not even Alice-outside of school.

She wants to put on a sweatshirt, a hat, anything to hide it all, but it's eighty something degrees outside. _Still._

Maybe she should just embrace it. It is Halloween, after all.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rosalie is dressed as a gumball machine. Store bought.

And so are three other people.

"Goddammit, I thought I really got it this time," she mutters as they add their food to the long potluck table. Emmett shakes his head and gives Bella a look that can only say, see what I mean? He's dressed like Jason Momoa as Aquaman and it's effortless but accurate.

"I still can't believe you didn't dress up, Bella," Rose chides. "I have like, a million old costumes you could've borrowed."

Bella shrugs and says, "dressing up isn't really my thing."

Thankfully, Rosalie drops it, setting up her tray of orange-frosted brownies with the other desserts and giving the stink eye to a middle schooler in an identical costume. Bella hovers near her and Em, unsure of what to do. There are plenty of other people around, the crowd growing steadily. She sees her classmates congregating near a picnic table far from where she's at now and her mom is talking animatedly to a woman that Bella doesn't recognize.

Her arm itches beneath her cast, sweat prickles on the back of her neck. There's no reason for the panic to bubble in her throat, there's nothing going on. Just people enjoying a party. She tries to take a breath but it's too shaky. She starts backing up, hoping to god that Rosalie and Emmett don't notice her freaking out.

She hits something warm and solid instead.

"Whoa, careful." It's Edward, his hands gripping her elbows to steady her as she whirls around, trying to control the expression on her face. His eyes flash, he sees her panic, but he goes completely neutral and at ease in an instant.

"My costume isn't that scary, is it?"

She takes him in, his green tinted face, the dark circles under his eyes. His shirt's torn and he's got fake blood splattered all over him. A zombie. Bella only stares at him while he inspects her outfit.

"I was afraid of this," he tells her, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her t-shirt. He pulls a folded up roll of gauze out of his pocket.

"I don't really do costumes," she tells him, too softly. She tries to remember the last time she's spoken at full volume. The last time she felt like she had the strength to.

"It's basically illegal to not wear a costume to this thing," he says, and then gestures to her cast. "You've already got it started, let me help finish it."

As he wraps her haphazardly in gauze, she begins to realize that Edward is a helper. A fixer. She wonders if that's why he does construction with his dad. She tries to imagine him at the end of a project, to see him looking at a remodeled room the same way he's looking at her now: a satisfied smile, crooked in the way that one corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other.

"Am I scary enough now?" she asks him, a little sarcastically-that little edge of _something_ in her voice thrills her. Edward's smile widens.

"Oh yeah. Terrifying."

They fall silent but before they can edge into awkwardness, Emmett finds them, a full plate of food in his hand.

"This is the best spread ever," he tells them, continuing on his way to Rosalie, who is sitting at a picnic table, drinking a beer.

"Did you make anything?" Bella asks as they grab their own paper plates.

He shakes his head. "My mom usually bakes something, but I'm not much of a cook."

When he turns the question back on her, Bella hesitates. She can say that she helped Emmett with the guacamole, but is she much of a cook? She'd grown up making spaghetti and pot roast and casseroles for her and her dad. She learned to use the stove by the time she was six. Cooking was always relaxing to her, she enjoyed it. The way she'd have music playing while she chopped vegetables and decompressed between school and homework. The way her dad would say, "this is the best thing you've ever made" after every single meal, patting his stomach and leaning back in his chair. She'd spent the summer trying to incorporate more vegetables and lean meats into his diet-she kept telling him that she wanted to make sure he stuck around for a long, long time.

The thought wraps itself around her lungs. It's hard to get air, to not cry. She's so, so tired of fucking crying.

"I...no, I'm not much of a cook."

She wonders how long Edward will let her get away with this-the way she hesitates before she says anything, the way she won't elaborate on anything. She tries to imagine herself saying these things aloud to him-to anyone-but she can't.

To her immense relief, he leads her to a spot on the curb, increasing the distance between them and her peers, neither one of them pressed to fill the silence that falls between them as they eat. It's a nice silence, not lonely, instead like they're choosing to be in this together.

She wants to ask him questions though, she wants to know about him in a way that she hasn't wanted in...well, ever. His messy hair and kind eyes, his warm smile and the gentle way he wrapped her in gauze.

"So...you graduated, right?" she begins, watching as he swallows a bite of potato salad.

"Oh, yeah, a couple years ago."

"And now you work with your dad? Do you like it?"

He shrugs, eyes shifting away from hers.

"Yeah, it's okay."

There's more to the story, more that he isn't mentioning to her, that she could ask about, but she remembers the way he doesn't push her.

So she sighs, after a beat, "is it always this hot?"

His laugh is easy, comforting.

"It's not so bad in like, January."

"Jesus christ," Bella mutters, and he laughs even more.

"Your mom said you used to live on the West coast-I take it you aren't from Southern California if you think _this_ is hot."

She shakes her head. "No, I'm from Washington. Rainy and green and always in the sixties."

He frowns. "Rainy? Sounds terrible."

"It's not, it makes everything feel fresh. The air...it's so different there. Plus, rain on the roof when you're falling asleep is better than like, whale noises."

"I never thought whale noises were all that calming. I always fell asleep to violent cartoons."

She's surprised by the laugh that bubbles from her throat, too loud and so real. As Edward joins her, his grin huge, she can't remember the last time she'd done this. The last time she genuinely laughed.

It's then that Alice appears, dressed as a fortune teller in flowing scarves, one of them wrapped carefully around her head, her eyebrows raised as she approaches them.

"Hey...Edward, Lo was looking for you." Her tone is so...confused. Uncertain. He glances behind her, spotting who must be Lo, a blonde girl with a deep tan, wearing the same costume as Rosalie, on her tiptoes, looking for someone.

"Thanks," he tells her, getting to his feet. Bella doesn't want him to leave, she wants to stay in this moment of laughter forever, but he's saying he'll see her later, disappearing into the crowd.

Alice takes his seat, still looking completely bewildered.

"What's wrong?" Bella asks her, trying to keep herself focused on Alice, not on the fact that Edward's far from her now, kissing the blonde girl and she's grinning into his mouth.

"Sorry," Alice says sheepishly. "It's just...he doesn't talk to anyone but Lo or Jasper...and you, I guess."

"Oh," is all she can think to say-because what can she say? _Is he like, selectively mute?_

His words always sound so easy to her, so casual.

"I didn't mean to be weird," Alice explains. "It's just...since his accident, he kind of stopped talking to everyone. Avoided his friends and stuff. I mean, it's nice that he, you know, talks to you. I'm going to get food, do you want anything?"

"Maybe a water?"

As Alice makes her way to the tables of food, Bella lets her eyes wander to Edward, no longer lip-locked, but instead listening as the blonde-Lo-talks to him animatedly, her hands moving as fast as her mouth. He glances at her then, their gazes meeting for the briefest of moments before she makes herself look away, cheeks burning.

 _Since his accident_ , Alice had said before, since that, he'd changed.

Bella wonders how much of himself he sees in her, how much he knows about her already from the constant panicked look in her eyes, the quickness of her breathing. She wants to be closer to him. It's all she can think about the entire time she's at the party. As Alice moans over how good the pie is and as Rosalie compliments Alice's costume and while Renee doesn't seem to realize that Bella is even there at all, her eyes always find his, meeting across the crowd, her heart hammering more and more each time they do.

She's suddenly so desperate to be seen, really seen. She wants to talk to someone who might actually fucking get it.

Bella says goodbye to Alice, who keeps edging them closer to the other kids from school, claiming a headache. She makes the journey to the hotel alone, hearing the noise from the party fade with each step.

Her room is too quiet, as always, but tonight it feels especially oppressive. She searches for her iPod, turning the volume up as high as she can stand it once it's in her hand. She opens one of her stupid journals, her hand shaking as she scrawls another list. She can't stand this place, she can't stand anything at all. She's never felt so out of her mind. Bella screams into her pillow, screams until all the breath leaves her lungs and her throat is raw.

It doesn't make her feel any better.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good:_

 _The bad: i can't breathe i want to go home i want to go home_


	6. Chapter 6

**LayAtHomeMom is the best.**

 **.**

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Holding the pain like you're holding your breath**_

 _ **You're right next to me**_

 _ **But you're a long way from home**_

 _(the lumineers)_

 **6.**

" _Wheel_ is the worst. These people keep wasting money on vowels," Rosalie complains, biting a carrot in half with a forceful _crunch_. Bella hums in agreement, but there's nothing else on and neither of them have much else to do. She's been committing herself to her homework in all her spare moments, desperate for _something_ to do. She's never gotten such high scores in math. She distracts herself with the reading for English, blowing through _1984_ a month before it's due.

She really needs to visit the library, but it's on the other side of the bridge. She's started reading her textbooks, and that helps her fall asleep at night.

Now, Bella spends her afternoons watching game shows with Rosalie, focused on solving each puzzle, clinging to any semblance of _something_ to do.

Bella eats her carrots and silently guesses the answers while Vanna White strolls across the screen, making letters appear with a touch, bored out of her fucking mind.

And then Edward is leaning on the counter in front of them, grout under his fingernails.

"I'm heading to the Lowes in Bluffton," he says to Bella. "I need to get tiles for the upstairs bathrooms. I could use some help, if you aren't busy."

Bella has no idea where Bluffton is but it sounds like it's not on this island. It sounds like a car is going to be involved.

"I don't do cars," she tells him.

"It's not that far."

Rosalie pipes up, "I think your mom is going to be home soon. She has new furniture with her for the lobby. Lots of rearranging. Lots of thinking out loud."

Bella is taken aback by how pointed Rosalie's being-and how well she seems to know the things that make her itch. The mere _idea_ of someone paying such close attention to her makes her heart twist.

She's faced with an impossible choice: get in a car, suffer through an evening with her mother, or sit alone in her too-quiet room.

Edward quirks an eyebrow expectantly.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"You're afraid of cars," Edward says as he pulls his truck into a parking space. It's not a question.

"I never said I was afraid," Bella tells him, trying to keep her voice even.

"You're white-knuckling the door." He has a point, her hand is cramped from clinging to the handle. She closed her eyes when they went over the bridge, she had to. It's overcast and the sun is starting to set and she kept thinking, _mistakemistakemistake._

It takes until they're in the too-bright lights of Lowes, smelling the sawdust and chemicals that Bella starts to feel the tension leave her shoulders. Her dad was never very handy, duct tape was his fix-all, so there are no memories of him attached to this place, only new ones being formed of the way Edward knows several employees by name, how he makes small talk with them as they drift through the aisles. He doesn't go straight to the tiles, instead, he leads them through various rows, not even looking at anything on the shelves.

"This is like, meditating for me," Edward explains, and then pauses when he meets Bella's gaze. "Don't give me that look, it's not that weird. You'll see."

"So…" he begins as they find themselves alone in the lighting section and it's quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioner. Bella looks up, her eyes drawn towards the chandelier above them, the crystals casting rainbows as they move.

She can kind of see what he means and when she looks to him, he's smiling.

"The magic of home improvement."

She laughs, committing this moment to memory, the satisfied smile that blooms on his face, the way his hair shines like a new penny in the light. The way her laughs comes so easily when she's with him.

"I…I am afraid of cars," she admits. His smile softens, encouraging. As soon as those first words leave her, the rest comes out like she's been holding her breath. "I was in an accident a couple months ago. We-my dad and I-were driving to a friend's house and this car just, came out of nowhere. We went right over the side of this bridge and…"

She can't go anymore, she can't. Her throat is burning, she can't tell him that she couldn't get her dad out of the car, he was too heavy and the water was coming so fast and she was bleeding so much it was in her eyes and she couldn't stay awake.

She woke up in the hospital the next day, completely alone.

Edward reaches out to her then, his hand on her shoulder gently.

He says, "Christ, Bella," in a way that doesn't feel pitying, but sympathetic instead.

They fall silent again, her trying to control her breathing and him trying to think of what to say next, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

"Let's go," Bella says quietly, moving away from the lights and into aisles of nuts and bolts and plumbing supplies, trying to find anything having to do with tiling to get the rest of this over with.

"I've been thinking about it," Edward says as he takes them down the main aisle, knowing where he's going now. "You being afraid of cars, it's not very practical."

This time, Bella's laugh is surprised. "Yeah, duh, it's not practical."

He shakes his head. "It's just, you're so young. Too young to be so afraid of something like that."

She glances at him to find his eyes on her already, and hates the way his words settle around her. Something about the fact he thinks of her as being... _too_ young rubs her the wrong way.

It's why she feels the need to tell him, "I'm not that young."

And while her age may say otherwise, nothing else about her is young. The whole childhood thing was tenuous at best. It was hard when your parents were always fighting and when your mom finally leaves, you take over the cooking and the cleaning and the holding it all together. Not that she minded, the whole being-a-kid thing was never really her scene.

Edward looks at her as if he's trying to decide if he should believe her.

She hates that it even matters.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: I survived a car ride on a bridge in the dark_

 _The bad: am I really that young?_


	7. Chapter 7

**I owe this chapter and all the others to LayAtHomeMom**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **Honey, you're familiar**_

 _ **like my mirror years ago**_

 _(hozier)_

 **7.**

"So, what else are you afraid of?"

The second time Edward asks her to run errands with him, Bella hardly hesitates. Rosalie and Em are on vacation, venturing up the coast to New England, planning on seeing some "real fall weather." Rosalie explained to her that Em was from West Virginia originally, and misses seeing the leaves change color. They apparently go somewhere new every year, but their top priority is that they go somewhere totally different than here.

"It's not that I don't love this place-I do-but it gets so dead around here in the off season. We get bored."

Bella totally understands the boredom, having only been there for less than two months, she is at a total loss for what to do with herself. Forks was boring, too, but she was used to that monotony, she'd made a life for herself that she enjoyed. She's exhausted at the thought of having to start over.

So, when he says, "hey, Bella, I'm going to grab some dinner for everyone, do you want to come? We can walk," she follows him outside into the thankfully chilly night.

"This is how it's supposed to be," she tells him as the breeze hits them, though the air shouldn't be salty and waves shouldn't be crashing.

He smiles at her, almost amused. They fall again into silence, as they tend to do, in a way that isn't all that uncomfortable until they no longer have the waves to fill the space of conversation, having ventured further inland.

This is when he asks her what else she's afraid of.

There are plenty of things that Bella fears—not just results of her accident, but she suffered from nightmares about snakes so often when she was young that even the thought of one slithering towards her sends her heart racing.

"What are _you_ afraid of? It's not fair that this is all on me," she huffs, indignant. He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't particularly like heights," he says, and she stares at him.

"That's it?"

He laughs and says, "no, but now we're even."

They turn a corner and she argues, "no we aren't. Yours wasn't a big thing."

"What are you, the fear police?"

"I'm serious," she says. "Like, my fear of snakes is nowhere near the level of the car and water thing."

He stops dead in his tracks, reaching for her wrist. Her skin burns where his fingers press against her.

"You're afraid of _water_? You live on an island. Surrounded by water."

"Don't remind me," she mumbles, trying to ignore the fact that her heart isn't beating this fast due to her ever-present anxiety. Her cheeks redden in spite of herself and she adds, "and don't judge me."

He shakes his head. "I'm not judging you. I just…"

She feels herself start to turn inward, self-consciousness nearly bowling her over. Who was she kidding, walking around town with this beautiful boy who knows all about her pathetic fucking weaknesses? She hates that being with him makes her feel halfway normal sometimes. She hates that he makes her laugh without trying and that he knows she's so, completely _fucked up_.

He notices her silence, the way her eyes stay glued to her feet, and says, "I mean, I don't know, Bella. I'm not sure if mine even count, I'm living my fears out every day."

She looks to him then, trying to find something in his cloudy expression. She recognizes his reluctance, she sees what it's taken from him to give her that vague hint of a larger truth.

Without thinking about it, she touches his hand, listening to the way he exhales as he pushes open the door to the restaurant, bells ringing to signal their arrival.

.

.

.

They run into Phil when they arrive back at the hotel. He's getting out of his car, bag slung over his shoulder and his eyebrows raise when he spots them, just a little.

"Hey, Coach," Edward calls out, lifting his chin as a greeting. Their hands are full of brown paper bags, grease mottling the bottoms.

"Cullen. Bella," he says, nodding towards the door for them to go on ahead of him. Bella and Edward had talked about what she was doing in school the whole way back. A little forced at first, both of them actively avoiding discussing things that scared them, but the flow of safe and easy conversation carried them home. Now, with Phil hovering behind them, they're silent. Bella keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, and he keeps meeting her gaze. He fights a smile. She fights a blush.

Phil clears his throat.

It's later, after everyone is fed and the Cullen men have left, that Phil says, "you've been hanging out with Edward, huh."

Renee rolls her eyes and tells him to, "leave her alone" with a laugh.

"I'm not saying anything! I was just noticing," he says quickly. He frowns uncomfortably.

"He called you Coach," Bella says, looking at her glass of water and avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, I've coached him all through school. Baseball. Hell of a player, got tons of offers for college ball."

Bella considers this and asks, "then why is he still here?"

Phil sighs and she worries that she's overstepping, or at least making her curiosity about Edward far too obvious.

"He was in an accident his senior year. Damned drunk tourist ran a red light and t-boned him. Broke his leg in three places. Lost all his offers. I don't think he's played since. A real shame." Phil shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer.

Later, Bella finds herself in bed, staring at the ceiling and imagining Edward in the sun, running, dust flying up behind him as he rounds base after base. She tries to picture him on campus somewhere, and speculates what he'd planned on studying and where he'd wanted to go. She wonders how far away he was planning on being, and if he feels as trapped as she does.

.

.

.

Bella convinces Alice to go with her to the library during their shared free period, hoping to find a book about Frida Kahlo. She knows that she's a Mexican artist, but not much else. There was something about her expression in the poster that grabbed her, something familiar in her eyes. She recognized the pain settled there, as if her sadness was so apart of her, any expression would have held it.

Alice settles at a table near the windows, pulling out her math homework while Bella combs through the biography section until she finds what she's looking for. _The Diary of Frida Kahlo_. She flips through it, her eyes drawn to the sketches and inky writings throughout, colors spotting every page. It feels so personal that it makes Bella's heart hammer.

When she sits across from Alice, she takes her time looking at the drawings and is disappointed that she can't speak a lick of Spanish, but once she reaches the half-way mark, she finds the translations. A pencil drawing jumps fills a page, a woman standing naked in a mess of branches, wings on her back. The whole thing is on fire and the top of the page asks, _are you leaving? No._

 _BROKEN WINGS._

She wants so badly to show Edward, wants so badly to see his face when he reads the words, if his expression mirrors her own. Alice looks up then and asks, "can I see?"

When Bella hands the book over, she watches the way Alice purses her lips, examining the page and blurts, "it makes me think of your brother."

Alice stills, her eyes raising to meet Bella's mortified expression.

"That was...I'm sorry, that was stupid. Phil mentioned him the other day and how...everything...you know."

Alice's shoulders relax, and Bella realizes that the rumor mill must be strong surrounding them, so many of the other girls in school ask after him, make comments about him.

"I see what you mean, though," Alice says softly. "I keep telling him he isn't stuck here, he's just…"

"Scared," Bella finishes.

"Yeah. It sucks. He just kind of collapsed in on himself. He'd played baseball since he could walk and then he just stopped, you know? He stopped everything. The doctor told him he'd be able to run after his leg healed but I don't think he's tried. He donated all his gear. It's like he gave up. Sorry, that was probably too much information."

 _It wasn't nearly_ enough _information_ , Bella thinks, but just shakes her head.

"It's actually nice to talk about it," Alice murmurs. "People don't actually _care_ how he is, they just want the gossip. He was my best friend growing up. It's just kind of me now."

It's then that Bella realizes that Alice might be lonely and so she asks, "do you want to come over after school?"

Alice's smile is brilliant when she says, "I'd love to."

.

.

.

"Hey Bella, I was-"

"Hello to you, too, big brother," Alice mutters as Edward makes his way to the desk. He hadn't seen her, his full attention was to her right, where Bella sits with her new book. They're hanging out at the desk since Rosalie is gone, eating pretzels and pretending they're doing homework instead of channel surfing.

"Oh, Al, I didn't know you were here."

"Obviously."

Bella pipes up, "what's up?"

And then, the most incredible thing happens.

Edward _blushes_.

Pink lightly makes its way up his neck and he hesitates before he says, "oh, um, nothing, just passing through and wanted to say hi."

"Hi," Bella says, heart stuttering in her chest because she's pretty sure he's lying.

"Hi," he parrots.

"Jesus christ, _hi_ ," Alice says loudly, which causes Edward to glare at her, for just a minute, before he disappears upstairs.

Alice shakes her head and grumbles, "Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar."

Bella can't help but wonder what he would have said to her if she'd never invited Alice over.

.

.

.

She catches him as he's leaving, the sky is dark with the promise of a storm. Alice has hitched a ride home with her dad, while Edward assured the both of them that he could rinse out the paint brushes and fold up drop cloths. She resists the urge to find him there, instead busying herself in Phil's storage closet near the kitchen, digging through his equipment.

She waits for him in the parking lot, heart pounding and feeling like an idiot until he spots her and a smile lazily forms on his face as he approaches.

"Hey."

She swallows her nerves and says, "so, I've been thinking about it."

He's right in front of her now eyes bright and his smile morphing into one of amusement.

"Oh, yeah? Thinking about what exactly?"

"You said that your fears don't count because you're living them. But I disagree."

He frowns, his brows furrow, but he doesn't look angry.

"Living it isn't the same thing as facing it," she finishes, biting her lip while she tries to maintain eye contact without shivering at the intensity of his stare. She reaches in her sweatshirt pocket and holds out a dirty baseball to him.

The electricity that charges between them makes her weak in the knees and she can't figure out the emotion on his face. The rain starts then, big fat drops smattering across their faces

"Bella…" The way he says her name makes her want to press herself to him, she wants nothing more than the feel of him on every inch of herself.

It takes everything in her to step away, to back up towards the motel with his eyes following her every move.

When she whips the baseball at him with her good arm, he doesn't even hesitate, his hand grabs it so fast she barely registers it except for the _smack_ it makes against his skin.

She gives him a shit-eating grin and tells him, "nice catch."

.

.

.

 _The good: "hi"_

 _The bad: I don't know how the fuck to do this_


	8. Chapter 8

_**endless thanks to LayAtHomeMom**_

.

.

.

 _ **I laugh like me again, she laughs like you**_

(hozier)

 **8.**

Edward comes by on Sunday morning looking for Bella, calling up the narrow staircase to her room.

"Did you just walk right in here?" she grumbles, trying to pretend like she _isn't_ wearing ratty pajamas.

"Mm-hmm. Do you have a swimsuit?"

"What?" She's still half asleep and why is he so _chipper?_

"A swimsuit—do you have one?"

"Definitely not," Bella tells him, crossing her arms over her chest, though she thinks that her mom ended up buying her one at some point over the last few months.

"I feel like you're lying," he says with a smirk. "Meet me downstairs."

Bella doesn't even consider why he's asking, her brain is still fuzzy from sleep and only cares that he asked her something at all.

Sure enough, there are three suits hidden in her wardrobe drawers. She wishes that one of them was a one piece, but settles on a relatively modest black bikini, embarrassed that she can't tie the top with her cast. Her appointment to hopefully remove it is not until Wednesday and she doesn't know what his plan is. Bella throws on a sweater and leggings over the whole get up and holds onto the strings of her suit with her good hand.

"Have you, um, seen my mom?" she asks him when she gets downstairs. He just shakes his head and her face flames as she explains that she "just can't tie the top."

"Oh," he says. "Come here."

The instant his fingers brush across her skin, goosebumps erupt all over her, even though his hands are warm.

In an attempt to not spontaneously combust, Bella blurts, "I can't swim with this cast. I'll drown."

It's like a bucket of cold water the instant she thinks about it. The very thought of cold water rushing in around her is enough to make her gasp and step away from him far too quickly, sending her tumbling to the floor. He curses under his breath as he reaches for her and misses, kneeling down in front of her trembling self instead.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he says softly, concern taking over every part of his face. She tries to focus on him, the way his eyebrows draw together, how his hand feels on her elbow, warm even through the fabric of her sweater, and slowly but surely, her breath returns to her.

And she is _humiliated_.

"Oh my god," she tries to groan, but it comes out as more of a gasp than anything.

"I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't! Do anything, I mean. It's me...I just...freaked out for a second. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He gives her a look that tells her to stop with the apologies, and then helps her to her feet. Tears burn behind her eyes because _jesus christ what a fucking spaz._

"I was going to take you to the community center," he says slowly, eyes still wide. "My friend Jasper is a lifeguard there. He can get us in before they open."

She looks at him, cheeks still flaming red, and he smiles, changing tactics.

"They have a kiddie pool, you know."

Despite everything, Bella begins to laugh, honest to god laugh until she's crying, because he's trying to take her to a kiddie pool and she had a near panic attack over, what, two feet of water? In a controlled environment?

"It's a little less than a mile away. We can walk," he adds as she calms down. "If you want to go."

She shakes her head. She's already been in car with him and she was safe. He knows the details of her accident. He knows her better than anyone left in the world. The realization lodges itself in her chest and she gives him a watery smile.

"Only if you don't push me in."

It's meant to be a joke, but the way he looks her right in the eyes says he's nothing but completely serious when he says, "I would never."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Bella has only been to a pool once, when she was really little and her parents took her to a waterpark outside of Tacoma. She remembers liking the slides, but her dad told her that the wave pool was totally bogus.

"We live in a world with _real_ waves. Why would you want to sit in a tub of lukewarm pee water with a million other people?"

She'd grown up swimming in the pond near Jacob's house and running through the rough surf at La Push beach. She used to love how wild she felt, what a force the water was. Now though, she can't even stand the sight of it.

Edward's friend Jasper is too tall, almost like his body isn't used to the height and Bella wonders about his center of gravity as he leads them through the still-dark lobby. On Sundays, the center is closed until noon, but Jasper has a set of keys. Small towns are so trusting.

The main pool room is warm, the scent of chlorine is so strong it burns Bella's nose. It's silent, save for the hum of filters and the occasional _splash_ of water against the sides of the pool.

Jasper yawns and says, "don't drown, I'm gonna go take a nap before we open. Hungover as shit."

Edward bumps his fist, telling him "thanks, man."

When they're alone, Bella tugs at the hem of her sweater while Edward kicks his shoes off, grinning at her. When he pulls his shirt off, she feels as if she's going to die on the spot, doing her damnedest to look anywhere _but_ his bare chest. His body is spotted with bruises from working on the hotel, and peeking out from the bottom of his swim trunks is a jagged scar, trailing up his thigh. He looks strong, though she isn't sure if it's from baseball or hard labor or both. He's all hard planes and flawed skin and it makes her mouth go dry.

It's only when he turns around and jumps into the pool that she can take a breath, and as he pushes himself lazily through the water she undresses. She's not covered in her own bruises anymore, but she's got new scars all over her side that she tries to hide with her cast. She hadn't needed stitches for most of them, but they still stand pink and raised and ugly.

When he sees her, he swallows hard and looks away while she sits at the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the warm water. He smirks when he reaches her, and shakes out his wet hair.

"The kiddie pool is over there if you need it. There's a slide and everything."

She likes that he's teasing her that he's not walking on eggshells around her. Though, she hates that he won't come closer than four feet away from her, and that his eyes seem to be glued to anything but her at the moment.

She kicks her leg so that he gets splashed-right in the face.

"You're lucky you have that cast on or you'd be _so_ done for," he laughs, settling for flicking water in her face. He's close now, so much closer than he's been, and he keeps moving towards her, until his chest is against her knees and her stomach _drops_ at the contact, even though he's still throwing water at her. He leans closer, eyes trailing along the curve of her shoulder, up her neck. She's blinking water out of her eyes and trying to keep her breathing normal when suddenly, he's backing away, diving under the water and disappearing, only breaking the surface when he's at the complete other end of the pool.

She watches the muscles in his back flex as he pulls himself out of the pool, reaching into a bin near the kiddie pool and returning to the water with a cloth ball. He soaks it and then pulls his arm back, and when he throws it, it drops into the water a foot in front of her.

She raises an eyebrow, pushing down that impressed feeling that wants to rise to the surface, and calls out, "I thought you were supposed to be good at this."

She grabs the ball before he reaches her, and uses her good arm to throw it in his general direction. For the next hour, they play catch, and even though Bella's cast gets a little wet, she has honest to god _fun_.

 _Involving water._

As they're leaving, giddy and laughing, Edward asks, "same time next week?"

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: I was near water and didn't die_

 _The bad: I'm still so, so scared._


	9. Chapter 9

**wow! thanks for nominating this for a TFFA! and a huge, endless _thank you_ to LayAtHomeMom**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **Like Jonah on the ocean**_

 _ **When you move, I'm moved**_

 _(hozier)_

 **9.**

When Bella gets her cast removed later that week, the doctor comments on the chlorine smell, while her mom looks on, confused. Her stitches come out and she only has to wear the sling for two weeks before she's totally free of it.

At home though, locked in the bathroom and staring at her reflection, she wishes more than anything she still had that fucking cast. There's a silvery-pink line running thickly up the entire length of her too-pale forearm, with smaller scars surrounding it like some fucked up constellation.

She avoids looking at them as she showers, focusing instead on how nice it is to not have to lift her arm above her head. It's still tender and stiff but she shampoos her hair with both hands for the first time since she's been in town.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The first time Bella fully gets into the pool coincides with the first time Edward bails on their morning early to see his girlfriend. They hardly ever talk about her and sometimes, Bella forgets she even exists. But on this day, nearing Thanksgiving break, his phone rings. They're just floating on their backs in the shallow end, eyes closed, and talking about terrible movies they've seen.

Her hand rises in the water next to his, but the jarring _ring_ of his phone causes him to jerk away, swimming to the edge and pulling himself out.

"Hey, sorry," he says into his cell phone. "I didn't forget, I said I'd be there. You told me noon."

There's a long pause and Bella feels like sinking to the bottom of the pool. She's yet to go completely under the water, the thought makes her pulse quicken, but Edward's current phone conversation makes her want to disappear.

"You can't expect me to know that, Lo." Pause. "Fine." Pause. "You, too."

He sets his phone down and runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. It stands up at all angles, still wet from the pool.

"I have to go," he says, sounding resigned. "I'm sorry, Lauren is being insane."

What's she supposed to say to _that_?

He continues, "you can probably stay if you want, Jasper wouldn't care."

She gives him a dark look and swims to the edge, where he's waiting to help her out.

"I figured," he laughs, though it's not his real laugh, as he grabs ahold of her good arm to pull her up. She drips on his feet, that's how close they are, and she can't seem to catch her breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, peeking up at him through her lashes, just enough to see him frown.

"Do you finally want to talk about _this_?" he counters, fingering the sleeve of her swim-shirt. She bought it from one of the tourist shops for five dollars. It's too big and falls past her wrists, effectively hiding her mangled arm.

"Why do you do that?" she huffs, sidestepping him to get her towel.

"Do what?"

"You turn everything back on me, you refuse to talk about anything having to do with your life, Edward. Why does my mess have to be front and center all the damn time?"

She doesn't mean to raise her voice, she knows she's projecting her own insecurities on him, but she really doesn't want to show him her scars.

He's seen so many of them already.

When she's wrapped in her towel and turns toward him, he's biting his lip.

"I'm sorry, you're right. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she says, hating that he's mad at himself, even though _she's_ a little mad at him, too.

"I'm supposed to have lunch with Lauren and her parents today, but apparently I need to go with them to church, not just meet them after like I thought."

"Oh," she says. It doesn't sound all that unreasonable until he says, "she's been so...I don't want to say clingy because it's not that, I don't know, she's always been kind of high strung and lately it's just getting worse."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"That girl is jealous," Rosalie explains. "Because all he does is hang out with _you_." She'd been curious as to why Bella was back so early, why Edward hadn't come inside to grab food from Emmett before he went home. When Bella explained what had happened and what he had told her, Rosalie laughed and laughed at her confusion.

"That's stupid," Bella mutters, twisting her damp hair around her fingers.

"Wouldn't you be if your boyfriend started spending all his time with some hot new girl?"

Bella lets out a loud laugh, which surprises Rosalie so much that it takes her a minute to be annoyed.

"Shut up, Bella. You're hot."

" _You_ shut up."

But just the mere _thought_ of Lauren having any reason to be jealous of her relationship with Edward is enough to make warmth settle into her skin, and she ducks her head, trying to hide her pleasure.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

In a shocking turn of events, Bella makes Edward follow her to the beach. There are a few hours of daylight left after school on Tuesday and Edward tapped out from work early. She seeks him out, finding him under a sink in one of the guest bathrooms.

"Hey," she greets him and though she doesn't mean to, she startles him enough to make him drop his wrench on his face.

"Shit, sorry," she says, though the laughter that bubbled in her throat didn't make her sound at all sincere.

"You should wear a bell or something, you move like a cat."

He rubs his forehead, but he smiles.

"You busy?" she asks. He shrugs.

"Not particularly."

They find themselves at the top of the stairs, clearing the dune and staring out at the huge expanse of sea in front of them.

"The water's so….green," Bella says, mostly to herself.

"As opposed to….?"

"The Pacific's bluer. A deep, deep blue."

He thinks this over.

"I've never seen it," he admits.

"I've never really seen this one either."

"Wanna go touch it? I'll race you," he challenges with a smirk, and before she can protest, he's taking the stairs two at a time. She only hesitates for a moment before she takes off after him, though she's more cautious on the stairs.

She doesn't need another broken arm.

The sand fills her sneakers and she's running as fast as she can after Edward, who's already tossed his own shoes behind him.

She's breathing hard and her lungs burn, but it feels so good. She feels _alive_.

In some miracle, she manages to catch up to him, just barely, and reaches for his shirt.

"Hey!" he protests, picking up the pace. "Cheater!"

She reaches him again, this time gripping the cotton fabric and tugging him towards her. He stumbles, and she manages to overtake him.

"Oh it's _on_ ," he threatens but Bella's already at the water, slipping out of her shoes as she goes.

He grabs her before her toes can feel the incoming tide and lifts her by the waist while she shrieks, kicking her legs behind her. He staggers back, both of them falling to the sand in a mess of tangled limbs, howling with laughter.

Bella thinks, in that moment, _this is the happiest I've ever been_.

They lay side by side as they catch their breath, not caring about the sand that's making its way _everywhere_. She can feel the heat of his hand next to hers, they're so close.

"I'm so out of shape," Edward huffs.

"You must be if _I_ caught up to you," Bella teases and he nudges her, rolling his eyes.

"I used to be so fast," he says, mostly to himself. Bella turns to him, feeling the sand fall from her hair as she props herself up on her elbows.

He won't meet her gaze, instead staring at the gray sky above as he continues, "my fastest mile was just under five minutes."

He finally looks at her, and there's so much emotion in his eyes, her breath stops in her throat. The fear and shame fights with something almost like anger.

"What is it now?" she asks, and he lets out a humorless laugh.

"I don't know. I haven't run since, well. I'm sure you know."

"The car accident." They'd never directly spoken about it, but they both know what she's talking about.

He swallows hard and nods as he sits up.

"I broke my leg-a compound fracture in my femur." He gestures to the scar showing at the edge of his shorts, pushing the hem up to show how big it is.

Bella doesn't think about it, it's almost instinct the way she reaches for it, her fingers lightly tracing the line. Edward lets out a shuddering breath.

"I try not to wear shorts, you know? People stare at it. _I_ stare at it."

"I understand," Bella says softly, thinking of her own scars, hidden beneath her sweatshirt.

He smiles then and tells her, "I know you do. It's nice to be able to talk about stuff like this. Most people just don't get it."

"Tell me about it," she murmurs, but it's lost in a wave crashing at their feet, soaking the frayed hem of Bella's jeans.

Edward pulls her to her feet, but they don't go back to the motel right away. They take their time to look for seashells while the sun drops, and disappears.

It's dark by the time they get back, covered in sand with pockets full of shells, and they're met with a concerned-looking Renee in the lobby.

"I've been calling for you," she says. "I didn't know you'd left."

"Sorry, we went to the beach."

Renee takes in their disheveled appearances, they sand coating their clothes and Edward's suddenly uneasy smile.

"Oh, well...just let me know next time," Renee requests, trying to sound like a mom for once.

It almost makes Bella laugh.

She's been here for months and this is the _first_ _time_ Renee has noticed if she was or wasn't at the motel.

"We're about to eat if you want to...get cleaned up."

Bella says, "sure," which effectively lets her mom edge her way out of the room.

When she's gone, Edward sighs, "well that was awkward."

"I think that's the first time she's noticed that I'm not always here," Bella tells him.

"That's not true," he says, but it doesn't sound like he believes it himself.

Bella shrugs and before he leaves, he pulls a shell out of his pocket.

"It's called a Letter Olive," he explains pressing it into her hand. "My mom always says that it's like a love letter from the sea. The Atlantic is glad you're here."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: the atlantic_

 _The bad: mom is pretending to give a shit now_


	10. Chapter 10

_**All my thanks to LayAtHomeMom**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **I wouldn't know where to start,**_

 _ **Sweet music playing in the dark,**_

 _ **Be still, my foolish heart, don't ruin this on me.**_

 _(hozier)_

 **10.**

"Cool room," Alice says as she steps inside.

Bella snorts a laugh and tells her, "It's an attic."

Alice rolls her eyes and moves through the room, stopping at her bedside table, inspecting its contents. A plain notebook, a glass of water. A small, smooth shell curved like a scroll sits half obscured by the green leaves of the fern. Bella wouldn't say that it's thriving, but it's not getting any browner, and it seems to be growing, just a little.

"I like your quilt," Alice tells her, and Bella explains its origin while she pulls out her math textbook. She's supposed to helping Alice study for an upcoming test, but she has a feeling that they won't get much done.

Alice is almost as desperate to be Bella's friend as Bella is to be hers, it seems, and soon the textbooks are pushed to the side, abandoned for Alice's discussion of her crush on Edward's friend.

"Jasper?" Bella repeats when Alice finally divulges his name.

"Yeah, why? Do you know him?"

"Oh, um, he works at the community center, right?"

Alice's eyebrows pitch up and she says, "Yeah, he does."

She's waiting for an explanation for Bella's recognition and Bella hates the way her flushed cheeks give her away.

"I go there sometimes," Bella admits.

She doesn't mention her brother, who is somewhere in the building, purposefully avoiding them. He tried to hide the way his face fell when she'd come into the lobby with Alice after school, but Bella had seen it.

"Oh my gosh, you have to tell me next time you go!" Alice blurts excitedly. "He never comes over anymore and Edward stopped taking me to his friends' parties."

"Totally," Bella says weakly, reaching for more homework. She tries to remember if she's ever been good at having friends.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Alice leaves with her father and brother, leaving Bella missing spending time with Edward and feeling almost desperate as she watches him load equipment into his truck.

"Alice is a nice girl," Renee says as they sit around the table for dinner.

"Yeah, she's cool," Bella murmurs, eyes glued to her mashed potatoes.

Over the last few days, since she'd waited up for Bella to come back from the beach, Renee has been trying to connect, though half-heartedly. She asks Bella a few questions here and there, but never asks how she's doing, how she's feeling. Just surface stuff. Bella tries to give her the benefit of the doubt, _she's just rusty at this whole being-a-mom thing_ , she thinks.

But then, it feels as if that isn't enough, and it makes Bella feel even lonelier in the hours spent with what's left of her family.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"My mom just...she doesn't want me here," Bella confesses to Edward a few days later. She's sitting outside of the bathroom door in one of the guest rooms while he installs a new shower-head.

Edward looks at her doubtfully.

"I'm serious!" Bella says. "I'm a nuisance, just another thing to worry about on her to do list. 'Call plumber, buy new drapes, ask Bella about her day but don't bother listening to the answer.'"

Edward puts the old shower-head down and sits next to her.

"Bella…" he begins and she's sure he's about to give her the whole _that's not true she loves you_ spiel.

She cuts him off and explains, "she didn't even come get me. After the accident, I mean. She was too busy here, she couldn't get away."

Something flashes in his eyes, his lips purse before he asks, "you mean, she wasn't there for...any of it?"

Bella shakes her head. "She met me at the airport in Charleston. It was the first time I saw her in _years_."

She sees his fist clench; his jaw flex. "Are you serious? She let you go through all of that _alone_?"

She reaches for him, her hand wrapping around his forearm, trying to assuage some of the rage surfacing in his eyes, instantly regretting bringing it up at all.

"Hey, it's okay. I made it out all right," she jokes weakly, and the tone of her voice makes him really _look at_ her.

He wonders quietly, " _Did you?"_

The way his eyes are searching hers is enough to make her own eyes burn, and she's so embarrassed when tears start to fall.

When he pulls her to him, holding her tightly to his chest, she cries harder. The last hug she'd gotten was when her mom picked her up at the airport.

The last hug had _hurt_.

His heart is steady against hers, his hands warm on her back. He holds her until her breathing slows, curled around her on the bathroom floor, his cheek pressed to her hair.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Bella is dreading Thanksgiving until she gets invited to a sleepover with Alice the Friday after.

"We'll watch movies and paint our nails and eat tons of pizza!" Alice says excitedly over the phone.

Bella has never been to a sleepover, and admits to Rosalie that afternoon that she's nervous while they eat popcorn at the front desk.

"Don't be nervous, girl! Ugh, I loved having slumber parties when I was younger. We'd stay up all night playing cards and drinking beer—which you shouldn't do, obviously," she adds with a wink. "But it's really just about chilling out and being friends!"

Bella nods, feeling a little better, but then Rosalie adds suggestively, "plus, Edward will probably be there. At night. In pajamas. Does he even _wear_ pajamas to bed?"

Bella throws a handful of popcorn at her.

.

.

.

The Cullen house is small and neatly painted a bright teal. Bella can hear the ocean clearly, their backyard is swallowed by sand dunes, blocking the view of the beach.

Solar lamps light the path to the front porch and Bella grows more anxious with every step. She doesn't see Edward's truck in the driveway, and she's frowning when Alice pulls the front door open.

"Yay!" Alice squeals, pulling her inside. "I wasn't sure what kind of pizza you liked so we ordered a bunch."

In the kitchen, behind a stack of too many pizza boxes, must be Mrs. Cullen. Her hair is a lighter shade than Edward's, almost like caramel, but her eyes and sharp cheekbones are all Alice.

"You must be Bella," the woman says. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"You, too, Mrs, Cullen," she says softly.

"Oh, please," Mrs. Cullen says, stepping forward. "Call me Esme."

There's something in her smile, in the pure maternal energy radiating from her, that makes Bella's chest ache.

Alice bumps Bella's hip with her own, grinning, and opens up a box.

In the warm glow of someone else's kitchen, filling a plate with greasy pizza, Bella almost feels at home.

.

.

.

They're watching _Legally Blonde_ in the living room when Bella hears the front door open and Esme say, "hi, hon. Did you have a nice time with Lauren?"

Bella's heart sinks when Edward says, "Yeah, it was fun. You guys order pizza?"

"Alice invited Bella over, there's plenty of leftovers. Help yourself."

He doesn't say anything, but Bella hears him open the fridge and cabinets, and doesn't realize she's been holding her breath until he appears in the doorway, plate in hand.

"Hey," he says, making his way to the couch, plopping down in the open space between the two girls.

"Girls only," Alice protests, but it's half-hearted because he's poking her in the ribs and she's laughing.

He doesn't stay for the duration of the movie, disappearing upstairs way before Elle Woods starts questioning Chutney on-screen, and Bella tries not to mope over his absence. His hand had been nearly touching hers on the couch, and her heart had been hammering so loud she was convinced he could hear it. Every time he shifted, his knee or thigh or arm would press against her and she would've thought he was doing it on purpose but he didn't look at her once.

As the movie ends, Carlisle comes home. Voices rise in the kitchen, he and Esme laughing and Alice sighs, pretending to be annoyed.

"They're going to want to watch _The Tonight Show_ ," Alice explains. "Let's go to my room."

Upstairs, there are three doors, one open to a bathroom, and another leading to Alice's purple-painted room. The closed door across the hall has paint missing in spots, as if someone had torn something-tape and all-down in a hurry. There's music playing softly, muffled by the wall, but no other noise.

Alice's room is hectic, evidence of a life lived in one spot for years and years. She's got stuffed animals on a shelf above her bed, and a dizzying amount of makeup spread out on her dresser. The curtains don't match her bedspread, and she's got a massive rug made out of old t-shirts on the floor.

Posters and photographs cover almost every spare inch of wall space. Bella recognizes some of the bands represented, but gets caught up in a collage of fashion magazine clippings that runs from floor to ceiling near her closet. Her breath catches at a small collection of Polaroids strung up near the collage, her eyes drawn to a picture of Edward, grinning out at her, sweaty and dirty and wearing a baseball uniform.

Something about the uninhibited _joy_ of him makes her want to cry.

"Sorry about the mess," Alice says, kicking dirty clothes under her bed. "I meant to clean but totally spaced."

"It's okay," Bella assures her. She wants to tell her that she _likes_ the mess. Messes are made when you feel at home somewhere. Bella thinks back to her room at the hotel, everything folded away neatly, her walls bare save for the Kahlo poster.

They end up on the bed, Alice snuggling a pillow, talking about school and boys and all that other stuff Bella imagined girls discussed at slumber parties.

"I've known Jasper since we were really little. He and Edward have been best friends forever and I always worry he only sees me in that little sister way. Ugh he's just...perfect."

Bella tries to imagine Jasper as perfect-his slow, lazy gait, the way he always seems to be stoned or hungover or both. Admittedly, he _is_ cute, with his shaggy blonde hair and easy smile.

"Just make him have to see you as more than that," Bella says with a shrug.

Alice's eyes brighten mischievously.

"I should totally slut it up," she says thoughtfully. "My boobs might be small but I can showcase my butt."

"Not what I meant," Bella mutters, rolling her eyes. _I've created a monster._

"Whatever," Alice giggles. "Enough about me. Has anyone at school caught your eye?"

The way she raises her eyebrows makes Bella laugh, even though her face is turning a horrible shade of red.

"Not really," she manages to say, but Alice isn't buying it.

"Seriously though, Bella! You've had that new-crush-aura about you for weeks!"

"Aura?" Bella repeats doubtfully. "I don't have anything like that!"

Alice smirks. "You sound defensive."

"You're insane."

"Spill it, girl."

Bella squirms, because she can't very well explain, _well, about your brother…_

In a panic, she blurts, "Mike is nice."

Alice squeals, "oh my _god_ , you know he totally likes you, right?"

Her excitement is enough to add to the lie. What harm is there in that? For one night, Alice has a friend to gossip with and Bella isn't a complete socially inept freak. Bella pretends that she could like a boy who likes her back, one who doesn't know about her scars and fears. A person who doesn't know her at all, an opportunity to _not_ have to be this stupid, broken girl.

But she remembers the way Edward held her while she cried on the bathroom floor, the way he smiles at her when she says something weird, the way he looks at her like she's not insane to be afraid or upset or angry.

Maybe she does have a new-crush-aura, but it has nothing to do with Mike Newton.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Alice falls asleep a little after one in the morning, Bella lying next to her in her pajamas, wide awake. She wishes she would have brought her iPod or something because it's so, so quiet.

Her heart beats fast for no reason and her skin starts to prickle with dread and fear and she knows that if she doesn't get air right now, she will have a panic attack in Alice's bedroom.

She crawls out of bed, trembling and moving as quickly as she can through the Cullens' dark house to the back door. She finds herself on a deck, surrounded by lush plants while the cold sea air whips her hair into a rat's nest. She sits on the wooden planks and puts her head between her knees, trying to catch her breath, but she can't. She keeps thinking, _I want to go home, I can't be here_ and then she remembers that she doesn't have a fucking home anymore, not really, and goddammit when will this _end?_

She forces herself back inside and upstairs, but she doesn't go back to Alice's room. Instead, she taps her fingers lightly against the door across the hall, heart in her throat.

The instant he pulls the door open, she feels relief, and then, somehow, _lust_.

Bella's seen Edward shirtless and wet plenty of times at the pool, but there's something about him in a soft gray t-shirt and boxers that makes her want to kiss him. His hair is messy, glowing and backlit by the single lamp illuminating the room.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, his tired eyes searching hers.

"I…" The words die in her throat. His voice is scratchy and sleepy and concerned. She gets her shit together after a beat and finishes with, "I can't sleep."

He runs a hand through his thick hair, and steps aside, letting her in.

"I don't sleep well either," he tells her. "I've been trying to for hours."

Edward's room is Alice's opposite, the walls bare, though it seems as though they haven't always been that way. Bella sees holes left from thumbtacks and bits of paint missing from tape being pulled up too quickly. It's neat, things put away, and the bed is unmade, the plaid comforter rumpled. Edward's sound system looks old, and he's got stacks and stacks of CDs on shelves below it.

He plops back down on his bed, laying back and staring at the ceiling while Bella explores his music collection. She recognizes a few of the bands, but most of the CDs are mixes, with messy scrawl on the plain white covers.

 _Work out vol 4_

 _Summer driving mix 2016_

 _Sad slow songs_

 _Her._

Bella's heart squeezes and she swallows hard, hating the jealousy that is currently taking up too much space in her chest.

"You can pick one to put on," he says from the bed. As much as she does (and doesn't) want to play _her_ , she grabs one called _spring songs_ and puts it in the stereo.

The first song starts soft, melodic chords on an electric guitar and Edward sighs, "I love this song."

Pleased with her choice, Bella sits cross legged on the floor nearby, blushing at the mere thought of being on his bed with him.

"You have a good time with Alice?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbows before slipping to the floor himself, back against the mattress.

"Yeah, I like hanging out with her."

He smiles. "I'm glad that you guys are friends."

"Me too."

They're quiet for a moment, listening to the music and Bella decides to ask, "Why can't you sleep?"

He shrugs. "I used to sleep like a rock," he says. "Baseball exhausted me-but in a good way, you know? Without that outlet it's just harder, I guess."

"I get that."

"What about you?"

"I get nervous. I have nightmares. Flashbacks, mostly. I know once I fall asleep they're going to happen and…"

He only nods, not offering any advice or pity, he just acknowledges what she's said, and assuring her that he's _heard_ her.

Changing the subject, she asks, "Have things with Lauren gotten any better?"

He frowns before he can stop himself.

"More of the same."

"Have you guys been together a long time?"

"Yeah," he admits. "She was there through all the car accident shit and didn't even try to bail, you know?"

"You guys must really love each other."

He makes a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat. "Want to hear something fucked up? Sometimes I think she's _glad_ I got into that accident."

"Edward," Bella sighs, disbelieving.

"I know," he says. "But it's just...I was going to go out of state for school, and as awful as it sounds, I wasn't going to do the long distance thing. She doesn't want to leave this town, she loves it here. It was a big fight for so long and then...I was stuck here and she got to dote on me and...I'm still here, Bella. And I think I resent her."

His voice gets thick at the end, and Bella crawls across the floor to him, leaning next to him on the mattress. She rests her head against his shoulder because they're friends, right? Friends can touch other friends' shoulders.

"Where were you going to go?" she asks quietly, her cheek pressed against the thin fabric of his shirt.

"It was a toss-up between University of Michigan and Penn State."

"Wow," she breathes. Not as far as say, Washington, but still pretty far. "I hear those are good schools."

He laughs softly. "I wanted to be an architect."

She sits up, facing him and sees the melancholy leave his eyes as she grins at him.

"Dude, that's so cool."

He shrugs, but can't stop his own smile.

"I like building things, I've been helping my dad with the contracting stuff since I was really young. I always thought it would be cool to learn how to design things, too."

"Do you have designs?"

"For buildings?"

"Duh."

"They're mostly doodles," he admits, but Bella shakes her head.

"Can I see them?"

He blushes but gets to his feet, grabbing a sketchbook from his desk drawer. When he sits back down, he's flush against her, handing the book over. Bella opens it carefully to the first page, which is just a mess of straight lines and sharpie marks, but as she flips through, parts of buildings begin to form. A room that looks almost like a greenhouse. Different styles of roofs. A spiral staircase.

There are skyscrapers, tiny houses, beach bungalows, and Bella is sucked in. She imagines him tracing lines with a ruler, bent over the page with concentration, one of his mix CDs playing on the speakers.

"These are so amazing," she breathes, turning to him. He's not looking at the sketches, but at her, and their faces are so, so close. An inch, and her lips would be on his. She can't help it, her eyes dart to his mouth and his own eyes soften and her heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts.

He doesn't kiss her, and instead moves to take the book and put it back in the drawer, while Bella tries to stop feeling so lightheaded and _terrible_.

Because he has a girlfriend. Who he probably loves and makes CDs about, and she would have kissed him anyway.

"Its, uh, not too late you know," she says, hating the way her voice shakes.

"For what?" His voice doesn't sound right either and he won't turn to face her.

"To be an architect. To go to one of those schools."

He doesn't say anything, but watches her as she stands up, making her way to the door.

"Goodnight, Edward," she says, slipping out into the hall. He says her name, but it's too quiet for her to hear.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: I like him_

 _The bad: I like him ilikehimilikehim_


	11. Chapter 11

**biggest thanks to LayAtHomeMom**

.

.

.

 _ **I've spent this year as a ghost**_

 _ **and I'm not sure where home is anymore.**_

 _(the wonder years)_

 **11.**

"You tricked me!"

"I did no such thing," Edward claims, rolling his eyes. Bella wants to push him into the touch-pool.

"You said we were going to the aquarium. You did _not_ tell me that it was an aquarium that also houses _snakes_."

"It's a diverse aquarium," he tells her with a shrug. "Besides, that kid was crying because his mom _wouldn't_ let him hold the snake."

"I hate you."

"You'll get over it," he says, his hand on her lower back, inching them forward in line. "We're not anywhere near the snakes yet anyway. Don't you want to pet a crab?"

She glares at him, even though she kind of _does_ want to pet a crab.

"If I do this," she warns. "You're taking me to the lighthouse."

He groans and says, "it's too cold to go to the lighthouse."

"You're just afraid because it's so tall."

"That too."

"Chicken."

"Whatever. Go pet the crab."

She was curious about the aquarium, having seen a million commercials for it on TV, so when Edward asked her to go with him one rainy Saturday afternoon, she agreed in an instant. Even though she was a nervous wreck going over the bridge, she made it. Edward talked to her the whole time. Serenaded her with a song on one of his mix CDs that he labeled, _almost over_. She added _survived a car ride in the rain on a bridge_ to her mental list of accomplishments when they got to the other side and parked at the aquarium, an imposingly large building painted an obnoxious shade of blue.

In the lobby, there had been posters and signs exclaiming _check out our new reptile wing! Snake petting zoo!_

The crying kid confirmed her fears that Edward had planned it this way. Entice her with his presence in dim, undersea rooms and almost literally trap her with snakes.

As they make their way through exhibits, she hates how badly she wants to hold his hand, and how ethereal he looks with the flowing shadows and blue light from the surrounding tanks of water. He points out certain fish, though Bella's sure that half the names and details he gives about them are made up, but it makes her happy to see him happy.

It's then, staring at a school of Yellow Tang, she realizes that she'd probably do anything he wanted if it made him smile, and that is when she knows that she will probably end up holding the fucking snake.

.

.

.

It isn't as bad as she thought it would be. Having a huge boa constrictor wind itself around her shoulders.

She _does_ shudder and squirm every time she feels it move, and she's muttering _fuckfuckfuck_ under her breath the whole time, but Edward is standing in front of her, positively _delighted_ and somehow, she makes it through.

She imagines having Edward with her through every scary thing in her life and thinks, _I would be invincible._

He takes a picture of her with his phone, laughing and telling her, "you should see your face right now. I think that snake likes you, Bella. I think it wants to hug you tighter."

"Okay, that's enough, get this off me," she tells the bored looking employee standing next to her. "Please."

Once she's completely rid of the scaly, scary beast, she peers at the picture on his phone, where she's almost dwarfed by the size of the thing. Her face is twisted in a mix of horror and disgust, but her eyes are bright.

She wishes her dad could see her now. He'd praise her bravery, tell her she's a badass.

She doesn't have time to dwell, though, because Edward is pulling her by the hand back to the lobby and into the gift shop.

He's been touching her casually ever since that night in his room, from a light touch on the shoulder to full on holding her hand at times. It would be amazing if she wasn't such a fucking wreck about it. She knows it can never be more than what it is now. She wants desperately for that to feel like it's enough.

He uses the penny press to make her a little medallion of a boa constrictor, not hesitating to spend the fifty one cents to do it.

"When we get back to the hotel, I'll drill a hole in it if you want. Turn it into a keychain or something."

Outside, Bella's relieved to find the rain has slowed, mostly because, "hey, now we can go to the lighthouse!"

Edward shakes his head.

"I let a snake almost choke me today," she points out. "It's your turn."

"So dramatic," he mutters. "But you're right."

"Yes!"

She does a little victory fist pump and he laughs at her, getting into the truck before he can change his mind.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"This was such a mistake," Edward tells her. They're only halfway up, but he keeps looking over the edge of the staircase.

"Stop looking down, idiot," she teases. His hand is wrapped tightly around the railing, and he's walking ahead of her.

"So that if I fall," he'd explained when they first arrived. "I fall on you."

It takes forever for them to reach the top, and Bella is grateful that they're the only ones dumb enough to visit on a day like today.

"Open the door," she insists when he hesitates, hand outstretched for the knob.

"Don't rush me."

The wind is intense when he finally pushes the door open and the rain has changed to more of a misting. The sky is darkening, and the clouds are spreading over the ocean in front of them.

"Wow," she sighs, stepping around him and going to the edge and leaning over the railing.

"Jesus christ, you're going to fall," Edward says, pulling her back towards him by her jacket. She lands against him, back to chest, and they don't break apart right away. She feels him inhale sharply, then exhale slowly. Her jacket is still caught in his fist. His heart is pounding against her shoulder blade.

"It's beautiful," she murmurs.

"It's a shitty day," he counters. "It'll probably start storming and we'll get knocked from the top of this thing by the wind or get struck by lightning or-"

"Now who's being dramatic?" She smirks, pulling herself out of his grasp turning to face him. He scoffs, but doesn't move to leave-or even take a step back.

They can see most of the island from here, the edges in the distance obscured by fog, but it's the rough waves of the ocean meeting the shore and the horizon that she's entranced by. She used to sit up on the cliffs near La Push beach with Jacob watching the older boys jump from the ones below. She always wanted to try it, and the thought suddenly makes her miss home so much, her eyes fill.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks, pulling her towards him. She looks up at the sky, willing the tears to go back wherever the hell tears come from.

She sniffles and says, "I'm just homesick, I guess."

"Understandable."

She looks away, back out to the churning waters below and says, "it's stupid, you know? Because I never really gave a shit about Forks anyway-where I'm from you know? It was just a shitty small town and I was planning on going away for college to the city or something, but now…"

"Maybe it isn't the place you miss," he offers. "Maybe it's just the feeling of being home."

A tear escapes, slipping down her cheek.

"Nowhere feels like home anymore," she says, but when he pulls her close, his arms around her, it feels untrue.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: we faced the small fears today_

 _The bad: i have a new fear- edward feels like home to me._


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to LayAtHomeMom for prereading xo**

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _ **My heart's like the sea, it ebbs and it flows.**_

 _ **The things I couldn't say,**_

 _ **The words get in the way.**_

 _(the novel ideas)_

 **12.**

In a colossal lapse of judgement, Bella agrees to attend a house party to celebrate the start of winter break. Alice had begged her, mainly because it's being hosted by a guy who she knows is friends with Jasper.

"He's really cool," Alice says at lunch on the last day of school. "He graduated with Edward and he always throws the best parties."

Jessica nods beside her.

"Always a ton of booze," she adds. "Plus college guys."

"Yes, guys, maybe even...nice, blonde ones who like you and you like back," Alice murmurs to her slyly.

None of this entices her, but she feels like she owes it to Alice to be her wing-woman. Avoiding parties was the best part of being relatively friendless back home. Now she has to be _social_. Ugh.

She's supposed to meet Alice at her house early on Saturday so they can get ready together, and admittedly, it's fun. Alice blasts indie pop music and experiments with eyeliner on Bella, removing it and starting over too many times for her to count.

Bella comments on the zillion outfits Alice tries on, discarding clothes in piles around them, and Alice asks, "Does my butt look good in this? But does it hit my hips _just right_?"

It's getting dark by the time Edward comes home from wherever it is he was and makes his way upstairs, stopping outside the bedroom door, shaking his head.

"Tornado come through here?" he asks with a smirk.

"Fuck off, Edward," she says, tossing a shimmery scarf in his general direction.

"What's the occasion?"

"Peter's throwing a party tonight," she explains. "Like always."

"And you're going?" he asks, but he's looking at Bella when he does.

"Obviously," Alice tells him, rifling through piles. "I wonder if my red dress is in the laundry...I'll be right back."

She leaves, stepping around Edward distractedly.

"How'd you get suckered into this?" he laughs, leaning against the door frame.

"She's very persuasive," Bella points out.

"Very true."

"It didn't take much convincing," Alice tells him as she pushes past him, red dress in hand. "Since _Mii-iike_ is going to be there."

Edward's smile vanishes in an instant.

"Mike? Newton?"

"Mm-hmm," Alice confirms. "I'm trying to set him up with Bella."

Bella burns red between them.

"He's an idiot," Edward mutters. "A total dickhead."

"Hey!" Alice protests. "Why do you even _care?_ "

He stammers, flustered, before getting out, "I don't, I'm just saying."

"We have to finish getting ready," Alice tells him firmly, before closing the door in his face.

"I'm sorry about that," she says, turning back to Bella, who is forced to simmer in humiliation while Alice finishes putting on her makeup. When she's done, and Bella is allowed to look in the mirror, she can't help but smile.

"I feel like the girl in _She's All That_ after her makeover."

"Oh, hush," Alice scoffs. "I barely put any on you."

It's true, but a little means a lot. Mascara makes her eyes look bigger, and the bronzer doesn't make her look nearly as pale as she really is.

"I like that shirt a lot," Alice tells her, fingering the indigo fabric. It's the one her mom had picked out for her at Goodwill when she'd first arrived. She's only wearing it because she has a cardigan over it, hiding her scarred arm.

"That dress is perfect," Bella counters with a grin. Alice shrugs like, _I know right?_

They're heading outside when Edward appears on the front porch, frowning uncomfortably, following them down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Alice demands when they reach the sidewalk and he's still behind them.

"I'm going to Peter's party," he replies.

"The hell you are," she scoffs. "You never go to parties."

His eyes cut to Bella, and then back to Alice.

"Peter's _my_ friend, you know."

"Whatever," Alice mutters, crossing her arms and trudging down the street.

Bella glances over her shoulder at Edward, but he doesn't meet her eye, instead staring straight ahead into the night.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"Hey. You look weird in clothes."

This is how Jasper greets Bella, and Alice nearly has a stroke right then and there.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I usually only see you at the pool," he clarifies. "In a swimsuit."

"Oh," Bella laughs awkwardly.

Alice relaxes next to her and puts on her best flirtatious grin. "Hey, Jasper."

"What's up, Alice." It's not a question, but Alice answers it anyway.

"I was gonna get a drink. Do you know where they are?"

Bella knows that Alice knows where to get drinks, and she's pretty sure Jasper does, too, but he humors her.

"I'll mix you something good," he says and _dear god, is he a flirt, too_?

Alice gives her a thumbs up behind his back as they move towards the kitchen.

"That didn't take long," Edward says, appearing next to her. Bella doesn't say anything, just shrugs.

"She's so not subtle about her crush on him," he continues. "He'd probably take her out if she asked."

"You'd be okay with that?" she asks, surprised.

"Why not? He's a good dude and Alice can do what she wants." A pause. "You look really pretty tonight, by the way."

She feels positively ready to burst at his compliment but can't respond because a short, stocky guy with too long dark hair is wrapping Edward in a bear hug.

"Peter," Edward warns, but the guy doesn't let go, just smiles drunkenly and says, "I've missed you, man."

Edward's expression softens, just a little, and he allows himself to be pulled towards another room because he "just has to catch up with the guys!"

He looks to Bella as he goes, uncertain. He mouths, _be right back_ , before he disappears through a doorway.

She thinks about going outside for some air, but then Mike Newton is clumsily making his way to her, two drinks in hand.

"Hey! Alice said you'd be here!"

"Yep, in the flesh," she says flatly, but feels bad as soon as she does. Mike is always nice to her. A little _too much_ sometimes, but she can't necessarily hold it against him.

"Want a drink?" he asks, undeterred. "Alice made them."

 _Ah_ , Bella thinks, finally getting it. This is Alice setting them up.

She looks around for Edward or Alice or anyone familiar, but all she sees is Mike Newton and his red solo cups.

She takes one from him and drinks it. It doesn't taste like alcohol, just like fizzy fruit juice. She's never had alcohol aside from the beer she and Jacob used to sneak into the garage when their dads were watching TV inside.

"Do you have any big plans for the break, any fun traditions?" Mike asks, sipping from his own cup.

"Not really," she admits. She doesn't tell him that she isn't sure what kinds of holiday traditions her mom has in place, or where she fits into them. "Do you?"

He grins. "We go skiing up in Vermont for New Year's but we'll be around here for the most part."

"That's cool, I've never skied before."

It's kind of surprising how easy it is to talk to him until she remembers that he is probably the human version of a golden retriever and gets along with everyone.

Plus, whatever's in her cup is making everything feel looser and softer. It's a nice feeling.

As the night goes on, she listens to Mike ramble about skiing and school and doesn't have to volunteer any information about herself. He gets progressively closer to her as he talks and he smells like he's wearing too much body spray.

She can't help but think that Edward never smells like that. He's all clean laundry and sawdust. It's then that she finally sees him again, across the room. His eyebrows raise when he sees her with Mike, and she lifts her hand in a small wave, hoping that he'll come over to her. Mike touches her elbow and whispers in her ear that he'll go get them more drinks. Bella nods, breaking her eye contact with Edward. When she tries to find him again, he's with Lauren, who is leading him down the hall, shutting a door to a dark room behind them.

She hates how much it hurts, and how the jealousy cloaks itself in something like annoyance. Because he'd told her he'd be right back. And he wasn't.

Bella tries to find Alice, but she's not in the kitchen or dining room or bathroom, so she settles on texting her, _don't feel great. Going home, I'll text you later._

She's gone before Mike even comes back with her drink.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: "you look really pretty tonight"_

 _The bad: it doesn't even fucking matter._


	13. Chapter 13

**LayAtHomeMom is a pre-reading angel**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **There's something broken about this**_

 _ **But I might be hoping about this**_

 _ **Oh, what a sin.**_

 _(hozier)_

 **13.**

Bella knows that it's not fair to avoid Edward, but she's doing it anyway. She needs her space and time to come to terms with this little crush. She needs to get over it.

And she knows she can't really be mad at him for hanging out with his girlfriend at his own friend's party. He doesn't belong to her or anything. Just because it feels like he's the only good thing in her life, doesn't mean he feels the same.

And yeah, it fucking stings, but it is what it is.

.

.

.

It turns out Renee and Phil _do_ have holiday traditions. Traditions that involve a cabin in the Smoky Mountains.

"It's always a nice little couple's getaway," Renee explains at dinner one night.

"But obviously, you're coming with us," Phil adds pointedly. Renee nods distractedly.

"It's just a few days, it's nice. There's a hot tub and it's right on the side of a mountain and, ugh. I love it."

"How far?" Bella asks, her voice faltering. She's been better on short car rides lately, mostly because of Edward, but…

"I don't know, like seven hours?" Renee guesses.

The way Bella pales gets Phil's attention, but Renee doesn't look up until she's pushing herself away from the table, barely making it to the bathroom before she gets sick.

She can't breathe, her hands are shaking, and it's so much worse because she can hear Phil and Renee fighting about it in the other room.

No one says it directly, but this is how Bella ruins Christmas.

.

.

.

The Sunday before the holiday, Edward shows up at the hotel for their standing swimming date, even though Bella has not talked to him since the party. She's been spending her free time either in her room or walking through town while he works with his dad.

She's coming downstairs in her pajamas when she hears her mom say, "Yeah, usually we go to the Smokies, but…"

She sees Edward's poorly concealed frown as she steps into view.

"Hey," she says, mostly to him, but Renee is the one who responds.

"Oh! Bella! Edward's here for you."

She hates that she blushes, that her stomach flips when he moves his gaze to her outfit.

It's then that she realizes that she's wearing a tank top-her room gets so warm-and her ruined arm is displayed for all to see.

Renee doesn't make a move to leave, instead just stands between the two of them. Bella wonders if she can feel the way the space becomes charged with too much intensity for this early in the morning.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Bella says, "Come on."

She watches the way Renee opens and closes her mouth, looking like she wants to protest, but in the end, she doesn't.

He follows her up to her bedroom.

"Should I leave this open?" he asks, hesitating by the door.

"No, it doesn't really matter."

Bella's digging in the wardrobe for a sweater to cover herself, but Edward stops her before she can put one on.

"Is this why you've been swimming in that shirt?" he asks softly.

She doesn't answer, just looks away and burns under his gaze. When he touches her, she flinches at the feel of his fingers on her scarred skin.

"It's...I'm...fucking grotesque," she spits out, wrenching her arm out of his grasp and trying to cover herself with the sweater again.

"You're not _grotesque_ , Bella," he insists, grabbing the wooly shirt from her and tossing it on the bed.

She'd be crying if she wasn't so fucking _mad_.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she seethes, attempting to step around him. He closes his hands on both of her arms, right above her elbow and getting in her face.

"You are the _furthest_ thing from grotesque," he tells her with such earnestness her knees feel weak, her rage fizzles, because he's looking at her like she's…

"Beautiful. You're so beautiful, Bella. These scars, they show how fucking strong you are. Proof that you _survived_ and you're still here. They're part of you and any part of you is…"

He doesn't finish his thought. He doesn't have to, she can see everything left unsaid in his eyes, green and wild like the Atlantic.

She thinks that now would be a good time to kiss him, to feel the scratch of his stubble on her chin, her hands tangling themselves in his hair.

But he's backing away, each step he takes puts too much space between them and Bella is desperate for him to _stay_.

"I'll be downstairs if you, um, still want to go swimming." His voice sounds strangled.

"Sure," is all Bella can trust herself to say.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"Do you think you'll ever be able to drive again?" Edward asks, floating next to her. He'd asked Jasper to keep the lights out, the only light coming through the windows, a gray day muting the color of everything around them.

"I never learned how in the first place," she admits, eyes trained on the water-stained ceiling. "My dad was going to teach me in the fall."

"I could teach you," he offers quietly. "If you ever want to learn."

She feels such tenderness towards him, she wants nothing more than to grab his hand.

Instead she whispers, "Okay."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rosalie pretends not to see or hear them as they get back to the hotel, but neither of them would have noticed even if she'd been parading naked in front of them.

"So, um, I was serious," Edward says. "About the driving thing."

"I know," Bella replies with a shy smile. He returns with his own, and they pause, both unsure of what else there is to say.

"Are you done avoiding me now?" he asks, eyes trained on the way her cheeks turn pink and she bites her lip.

"I'm not avoiding you," she lies. She's such a terrible liar.

"So, I'll see you later?"

She tries to hide her grin, ducking her head with a nod. She watches him leave, not turning away from the door until she sees his truck pull out of the parking lot.

"Oh my _god_!" Rosalie cries from her desk. "Are you _kidding me_?"

Bella jumps, startled by the sudden outburst.

"What the hell?" she breathes, hand over her heart while she makes her way to her usual post-swim-seat.

"Dude," Rosalie says. "You could cut the tension in here with a knife."

"What are you even talking about?"

"You and Edward! Jesus christ, I thought _I_ was going to combust from that. I don't know how you're still standing, with him looking at you like that."

"He's not looking at me like anything," Bella insists, though she turns bright red. "He has a girlfriend."

Rosalie scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning back to the TV.

.

.

.

Christmas sucks.

Like, so fucking much.

There's no tree, except for the fake one in the corner of the hotel lobby with fake gifts underneath. There aren't any guests, so Bella doesn't see the point, but whatever. Bella doesn't have anything to give Renee and Phil on Christmas morning, so she feels awkward about the gifts they give her.

Name brand sweaters from the mall, a pair of wayfarer sunglasses, a giftcard to Amazon.

"We weren't sure about...what you liked," Phil admits, looking at the small pile in front of her guiltily.

"This is perfect," Bella assures him, looking down and hiding behind her hair.

The whole thing takes no more than thirty minutes, and then Renee is sighing about going back to bed and desperately needing a vacation.

And Bella knows that it's her fault.

She can't help but think about her dad then, sitting alone in the empty lobby. Every year they'd gone out to the forest behind their little white house and cut down a tree. They strung popcorn for a garland and put up all of her ugly, handmade ornaments. On Christmas Eve, they watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ and ate takeout. He woke her up early on Christmas Day, the sun barely out, and they exchanged gifts.

Her dad got the best gifts.

They were never expensive or flashy, but they were always meaningful. They always made her feel that he was paying attention to her, that he _knew_ her. Last year, he'd bought her a new set of pots and pans, along with a stack of cookbooks.

"You've been spending so much time in the kitchen," he'd said with a grin. "This is more a gift for me than you."

Bella tries to imagine where those things are now, but can't. Donated, probably. The thought doesn't hit like a punch to the gut, but it lodges itself in her throat, her grief a dull ache that she can't seem to swallow.

.

.

.

Bella is actually _relieved_ to go back to school after the New Year, any break from the hotel and her mother is welcome-even if it means being thrust back into a group of her peers.

Lunch is the hardest.

Jessica has returned with a new haircut and an exuberance that makes Bella wary. She nearly knocks her drink over when Alice reaches the table with her tray of food.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Jessica screeches. A few heads turn in our direction, but it barely deters her.

"Shhh," Alice hisses, her cheeks turning pink.

"Your brother has been single for like, a week, and I had to hear about it from my fucking mom!"

The table explodes with excited gossip and desperate questions, all aimed at Alice. Bella knows she needs to help her, needs to do _something_ , but she's frozen. Her mind is a loop of _singlesinglesinglesingle._

He's not with Lauren anymore.

"I heard she burned all the stuff he's ever given her," Jessica says loudly. "She thinks he's cheating on her or something."

Bella reddens, suddenly snapping back to the situation at hand, and recognizes that Alice is about to snap.

"Shut up, Jess. You don't know anything," she grits out. Bella grabs her hand under the table.

"Let's just go, Alice," Bella tells her softly, pulling her up from the table.

They end up in the library, hiding behind the shelf of reference books while Alice tries to calm down and Bella tries to stop thinking about the fact that _he's single_.

"He didn't even tell me," Alice says. "Like, I only found out because Lo texted me and told me how terrible and awful he is and that she's sorry she won't be around anymore. Like I even care about that." She rolls her eyes, leaning back against the shelves.

"Yikes," Bella sighs, and it makes Alice giggle.

"That's what _I_ said!" Her laughs peter out and she grows serious as she adds, "I just wish I would've heard about it from him."

Bella frowns. She knows the feeling.

.

.

.

"Hey," Edward says from Bella's doorway later that afternoon.

"Hi," she replies from her bed, reading from _The Diary of Frida Kahlo_ and doodling in one of her notebooks absently.

"What's up?" he asks, taking a seat next to her casually, like it isn't sending her entire nervous system into overdrive because _he's single and sitting on her bed_.

"Um, just, you know, reading," she stammers, gesturing to the pages in front of her. Edward squints at the notebook.

" _I want to be inside your darkest everything_ ," he reads, eyes lingering on her messy scrawl.

"I liked the quote," Bella explains, her voice barely a whisper because he just read _that_ out loud in her proximity and now he's looking at her with such an unreadable expression she feels like she might burst.

"I like it, too," he murmurs and she positively _burns_ under his gaze. There's silence that lingers for a beat too long before he adds, "My dad wants me to help remove wallpaper from the dining room. It's the worst, so I'm hiding up here."

"Glad to be of service," she laughs. He reclines so that he's on his back in front of her, no doubt getting dust and paint flecks all over her bed.

"How was your day?" he asks, his eyes on the exposed beams above.

"Oh, um, fine. Alice and I ended up skipping fifth period and hid in the library."

"Any particular reason or just to be punks?" he teases with a smirk. She ignores him, rolling her eyes.

"Jessica was being a total bitch to Alice for the millionth time and she was upset, so…"

Edward frowns and asks, "Why?"

Bella's cheeks redden as she tells him, "Um, it was over you actually. And Lauren."

Confusion twists his mouth and furrows his brows.

She clarifies, "Your break up."

His eyes close, he curses under his breath.

"And that she thinks you cheated on her…" she adds and his eyes fly open.

"That's absolutely not true."

"I know," she assures him softy.

"I...I had to," he says, uncertain. "I didn't love her. I didn't want to end up hating her."

She nods, averting her gaze so he doesn't see the elation in her eyes. _He didn't love her. He_ _doesn't_ _love her._

He scrubs his hands over his face, sighing tiredly, before he picks the Kahlo book up again, examining the cover before he turns his attention to the poster.

"Oh," he says. "That's her."

Bella laughs, fighting her urge to say, _duh_.

"Tell me about her?" he asks, handing the book back, his cheek pressed against her knee while she does.

.

.

.

 _The good: he doesn't love her._

 _The bad: Christmas sucks now forever probably._


	14. Chapter 14

**Shout out to LayAtHomeMom for being, you know, the best.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **Here outside, it's just you and I**_

 _ **Swimming in the moonlight**_

 _ **You're the moon, my blue lagoon, my favorite tune**_

 _ **Everything, everything, everything.**_

 _(bad suns)_

 **14.**

February brings with it a warm spell, the temperatures not dipping below 80 for almost an entire week. Bella lays out at the beach with Alice one Saturday, though she wears her long-sleeved swim shirt. Just because Edward has seen her broken parts, doesn't mean everyone else gets to.

"I asked Jasper to go with me to the Valentine's Day party at the community center," Alice says, her massive sunglasses hiding her usually expressive face.

When she doesn't continue right away, Bella prods, "...And?"

Alice pushes her glasses up onto her head, grinning hugely. "He said 'sure.'"

Bella laughs. Having spoken to Jasper, no matter how briefly, every Sunday for the last few months, she knows that that's about as excited as he gets about anything.

"That's so awesome, Alice."

"I know! Hence the reason we're working on our tans."

Bella shakes her head good-naturedly, sliding her own glasses up higher on her nose and asking, "What are you going to wear?"

As Alice weighs the pros and cons for nearly every article of clothing in her closet, Edward starts making his way towards them in a faded pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his sneakers in his hands. The sun makes his hair shine like a new penny and his nose is a little sunburned. Bella's heart skitters excitedly at his approach.

"Hey," he greets, bumping Bella as he sits next to her on her towel. She's dangerously close to falling onto Alice, but he reaches out to steady her, hand on her bare thigh.

She takes a sharp breath and he lets go, though not fast enough for it to escape Alice's notice.

"Oh, is it really two already? I was supposed to…" Alice trails off, getting to her feet. "Thanks for hanging out! Sorry to run!"

"Alice!" Bella calls after her, but she's rushing up the steps, waving haphazardly over her shoulder.

"Back to the shirt?" he asks, tugging on the hem, his fingers brushing against the skin of her abdomen.

"Trying to avoid the inevitable sunburn," she teases, poking his nose. He winces.

"Fair. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to start learning to drive."

She hesitates, the anxiety clawing its way into her throat. He smiles and says, "don't worry, we're not even getting into a car yet."

.

.

.

Apparently, step one of learning to drive involves a dimly lit arcade full of middle school boys.

"You're kidding me," Bella says as he pushes her inside.

"You've gotta see the _fun_ in driving."

"Are you insane?"

"Not clinically."

He buys them tokens and Cokes and finds two Mario Kart stations with _out of order_ signs draped across them, the bright red seats cast in blue light from the screens.

"I may or may not have falsely put these here," he says with a grin.

"You're gonna get us in trouble," she laughs, glancing over her shoulder, ready to be yelled at.

"Nah, I know a guy that works here."

"You know everyone."

"Small town, remember?"

Bella doesn't expect to feel the jolt of fear she's struck with as soon as her hands close around the wheel. Her hands drop to her lap in an instant, she turns to Edward, and blurts, "I can't do it."

He frowns and pouts, "but I was going to totally kick your ass at this game."

She can't help it-she laughs. It's small, but it's enough to make Edward grin.

"We'll start with an easy one. You can't even fall off anything in a lot of these courses."

As she tentatively curls her fingers around the wheel, he tells her softly, "just remember, you're here with me and nothing bad can happen to you here. Except for, you know, me kicking your ass."

.

.

.

The first time Bella beats Edward in a race, he complains that his steering wheel is broken and his game is lagging.

"Just accept that you suck at this," Bella teases, selecting another level. The first time she went over the edge of the road on a course, she braced herself for the free fall, for the air being sucked out of her lungs, for the pain.

It never came, instead, she was put back on track by a flying turtle with a fishing pole. It took her a moment to start going again, but she did.

Now, she was falling off mountains no problem, barely flinching. She's even managing to win.

Just the once, but still.

.

.

.

Edward and Bella go their separate ways afterward for dinner, Renee hesitating in the lobby while they say goodbye.

"We went to the arcade," Bella says flatly before she can ask where she's been. Bella's not used to telling someone where she's going and often forgets. Back home, she was given a fair amount of freedom-her dad worked so much that typically she came and went before he even got home.

Renee has been on her case lately, though Bella doesn't think it's because she actually cares or notices all that much-just that she is vaguely aware that she _should_.

Phil does make a genuine effort, though, and it makes Bella itch. He isn't sure how to do the whole step-dad thing, but his work with high school boys makes him a little better than her mother.

"Bella went to the arcade today," Renee tells him over cheeseburgers. Her tone is mildly accusatory.

"That's cool."

"With Edward."

"I figured," Phil says, smiling and dunking a tater tot in ketchup. Renee gives him a pointed look that he completely misses.

Renee sighs in a way that alerts them both that she's about to make a Big Deal out of something.

"Bella, I don't know if your dad ever gave you the sex talk but-"

"Mom!"

"Jesus christ, Renee!"

"I'm just saying!" Renee says defensively. "You spend all your time with that boy doing god knows what and I just want you to be safe! I got pregnant young and I just don't want you ruin your life."

Bella pushes herself away from the table, her fork clattering on her plate.

"Great, thanks," she says lowly. "Sorry to be such a fucking life-ruining burden."

She wants to throw things, to scream at her mother for being so stupidly obtuse, but she just makes her way through the lobby, storming out the front door while Renee and Phil call after her, before they dissolve into a fight of their own.

She doesn't cry, instead just furiously fast-walking down the streets, her anger dissipating in the setting sun.

She knows Renee didn't mean it that way, that her intentions probably weren't malicious. She's just completely out of her depth, like Bella is at all times in this place.

But she's the _mom_.

And it's not enough to _act_ like one sometimes. She needs to be one, or at least try to.

She doesn't even realize that she's walking to Edward's house until he's in front of her on the porch, keys in hand.

"Oh, hey," he says, surprised. "I was just coming to see you."

"I, um, had a fight with my mom. Kind of. I don't know."

He nods, tossing his keys on the table by the front door.

"Well, I have the perfect solution to mom-fights."

"You have a solution for everything," she mutters, rolling her eyes and trying to fight a smile. He bumps her hip when he walks past her, heading towards the house next door.

"What are you doing?" she hisses when he starts to mess with the gate on the fence.

"The Clarks are out of town," he says simply. "And they have a pool."

"So?" She's tugging on his shirt, trying to stop him from getting them arrested or something.

"So," he replies, annoyed. "We have full access to a pool that's been sitting in the warm sun all day."

He gets the gate open after some struggle with the handle and gestures for her to go through it.

"We're going to get arrested for breaking and entering," she mutters, pushing past him.

"Just entering," he corrects and then laughs. "We haven't broken anything."

"Yet," she adds.

The pool itself seems to be glowing pink, bathed in the warm light of the sunset, the surrounding area of the patio is nicely landscaped, flowers pruned and watered with obvious care.

Edward ducks behind a table, flipping a switch and turning not only the underwater pool lights on, but twinkle lights strung up around the fence.

It's magical.

What's more magical is when Edward slips his shirt off and tosses it aside.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," Bella points out. She hates how tempting the water looks. How tempting _he_ looks.

"I didn't either," he says with a smirk that sends her heart into overdrive. He loses his shorts, left in a pair of dark, cotton boxers.

She can only catch her breath once he jumps in, disappearing under the water.

She reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and feeling beyond exposed in her flimsy bra. He's seen her in a bikini tons of times, but there's something different about this. He breaks the surface as she tugging her shorts off her hips and blushing something fierce. She jumps in, too, if only to hide herself from him. When she comes up to catch her breath, he's right there, grinning.

"Remember when you couldn't even get _in_ the pool? And now you're practically throwing yourself like fucking Evel Knievel."

She laughs, and leans back, floating next to him. "I used to really want to cliff dive," she says. "The older boys from the Reservation nearby used to do it all the time."

His eyebrows raise. "That makes me want to throw up."

"I never swam in pools," she sighs. "But I like them. I like the control. I used to scream every time a fish brushed against my leg. The thought of a wave crashing against me makes me nervous. I used to love that feeling."

His fingers drag along her arm and she nearly loses her balance, which makes him shake with quiet laughter.

"You're the worst," she complains, getting her footing in the shallow end of the pool. He follows, gripping her ankle and pulling her back towards him until she manages to splash him in the face with her other foot.

They play Marco Polo, race, having dunking contests well past the sunset, and the twilight, until the sky is dark and full of stars.

She's trying to submerge him, her hair dripping onto his face as she practically climbs him, her legs wrapped around his stomach, her hands pushing hard onto his shoulders.

"You're doing it all wrong," he goads. "Terrible form. Just awful."

She lowers herself so that they're eye level and sticks her tongue out at him.

"This game sucks, you're too tall."

She knows she should let go of him, should untangle her limbs from the warm planes of his body, but she doesn't. In fact, she lets her arms slacken, hanging loosely around his neck. She can feel his hands on the flesh above her hips, his thumbs pressing lightly on her abdomen.

"I…" she starts to say but the words die in her throat because his eyes are tracing the curve of her neck and he's pulling her ever so slightly closer. Her heart is pounding, her every nerve ending aching for him to close the distance between them.

When his lips meet her jaw, she can barely feel it, but the heat is there and it's enough to make her tremble. Her eyes flutter closed, and the moment his mouth meets hers, it's tentative. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose and presses harder, his lips moving more urgently against hers.

As he kisses her, Bella can't help but think of a Frida Kahlo quote hidden in a notebook at home, one that she traced over and over and over.

 _I love you more than my own skin._

.

.

.

 _The good: holy fuck._

 _The bad:_


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you Lay for pre-reading 3**

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **I'm a ghost and you are a shadow**_

( _hippo campus)_

 _._

 _._

 _._

In the time it takes Bella to get pruney, she learns that Edward likes her fingers tugging at his hair, just a little too hard.

"Bella," he sighs raggedly, breathing hard when he comes up for air. He rests his forehead on her shoulder, holding her tight. She feels like she _fits_ somewhere for the first time...ever, really. There is comfort in the pounding of his heart against hers, a contentedness she'd never known she was missing.

"I've been thinking about doing that for...far too long," he admits with a grin.

"Me, too."

They drift for a while, tangled together and quiet, the need for conversation lost in the warmth of their skin pressed together.

.

.

.

"I have a few ground rules."

Alice is in the kitchen when Edward and Bella go back to the Cullen's house, her laptop open in front of her and she barely looks up from whatever she's working on as she speaks.

"Alice," Edward groans, tossing his damp towel on the chair next to her.

"I'm serious," she says. "I'm totally fine with…that." She gestures to their clasped hands. "And you know, like, whatever. But I don't want to hear about it. Or...hear... _it_."

"Alice!" he warns as Bella burns next to him.

"I'm just saying. Ugh, I like don't even know who to give the whole break-their-heart-I'll-break-your-face talk to. My loyalty is so split. Maybe we can double date or something with Jasper...wait maybe that's too weird..."

"I'll take you home, Bella," he says, throwinng an annoyed glance at his sister.

Bella starts to protest-she doesn't want to go back to the hotel. She wants to curl up next to him in his bed and not think about what Renee said to her earlier in the day. She especially doesn't want to have to confront her about it.

But in the saddest stroke of luck, Renee is nowhere to be found back at the hotel. When she's in her room, she finds her phone where she'd left it on her bedside table and there is only one missed call. It's from Phil, and he didn't leave a message.

She does her best not to dwell on it, heading down to the bathroom to shower the chlorine off of her. Seeing herself in the mirror, she's glad that no one was there to greet her at the door. Her lips are a little swollen, her chin is scraped red from Edward's stubble. Her fingers touch the evidence, the tender skin around her mouth tingles as it twists into a smile.

.

.

.

Bella can't tell if she's the one avoiding Renee, or if Renee is the one avoiding her, but either way, they haven't spoken in almost two days, though Bella isn't sure what would be said if they did. Renee has never been the apologetic type, and frankly, neither has Bella.

She uses the absence of any parental figures to her advantage, sneaking off with Edward to empty rooms as he works. Sometimes they kiss, though most times they talk, her head on his chest as they slump against a bed on the carpet, listening to the vibrations of his voice against her cheek.

He traces the lines on her hands, asking her about school and letting her vent about her mom and in return he tells her about what songs he likes and where he's always wanted to travel.

They're still the same even though they've crossed that bridge with that very first kiss-they still confide in each other and tease each other-Bella hadn't realized how intimate their relationship had been all along. The only change seems to be the way he touches her, openly, and without hesitation.

.

.

.

The best part of driving lessons, is definitely the whole making-out-with-Edward-Cullen aspect. They're in his truck, parked in an empty lot behind a vacant resort near the sea, and she's hoping that if she gets him distracted enough that he'll forget that they're actually going to put the car in motion today.

"Bella," he groans as her lips meet his neck. "You can't put this off forever."

She pulls away, frowning, and his hand lingers on her hip as he goes in for one more kiss before he scoots over, running his fingers through his hair.

"At least put your seatbelt on," she mutters and even though he laughs, she hears it click into place.

It turns out that driving in an empty lot with no obstacles but a lone street lamp is easy. Bella doesn't go over 25 miles per hour, and spends a lot of time practicing braking and using her turn signals, but overall, she feels strong. Capable, even.

Plus, when she's finished for the day, Edward's mouth finds its way back to hers.

.

.

.

"So," Jessica says at lunch one day. "You and Edward Cullen, huh?"

Bella can tell she's trying to keep her tone neutral and uninterested, but the distaste seeps out into her voice anyway.

Alice is, luckily (or unluckily) at some student council meeting and Bella is left to fend for herself. She shrugs, not taking any bait Jess is laying out.

"My cousin's friend's sister saw you guys in the parking lot by the _Tidesong_." She pauses for dramatic effect and then adds, "You know, making out."

The other people at their table stop their conversations. All eyes are on Bella, who is probably so red she's nearly purple.

But she just says, "okay."

She can tell that this irks Jessica, this complete non-verbal reaction, by the way her eyes narrow.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Yup."

Jessica scoffs, getting to her feet. "Good luck when Lauren finds you, then."

.

.

.

It takes two weeks for Bella to work up the courage to drive on an actual road-a back street that runs the length of the beach that no one really uses until tourist season. Her hands are clenched so hard around the wheel that her knuckles are white. Her breaths come out unevenly.

"You've got this," Edward says to her softly, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. She tries to focus on the warmth it brings, the way he anchors her as she puts the truck in motion.

"There's no one around," he assures her as she frets about how slowly she's driving. "Go slow, or speed up, whatever you want."

She does, getting the truck up to 30 at one point-the fastest she's ever gone. She stops at stop signs. She uses her turn signal. She even brakes for a seagull lazily eating an old french fry in the street.

"Do you want to go back?" Edward asks as they reach the end of the main stretch of road, where it fades into sand dunes.

"In a little bit," she says with a grin. "Do you have any CDs in here?"

He reaches into the glove box, pulling out the one she'd seen in his room weeks ago.

 _Her_.

Bella hesitates as he puts it in the player, turning the volume knob and glancing at her.

She's about to ask about it, about why he'd play a CD he made for his ex-girlfriend right now during her triumphant, life-changing drive, but he speaks first.

"I made this months ago. All the songs that made me think of you."

She can't say anything, her voice has left her as the soft, melodic guitar chords fill the truck's cab. A voice comes through, _I'm torn apart...the sweetness of the salt in her hair._ And Bella is...undone, by all of it.

She's in love with him, this boy who she only met six months ago, but knows more than she's ever known anyone. It's not that their broken pieces fit together, but between them, something golden and precious binds them.

They get back to the hotel before the last rays of sunlight vanish, Bella pulling them into a parking spot with a satisfied grin.

"Amazing," he says. "Expert parking job. You're only outside the lines by like, a foot!"

"Shut up," she laughs, not bothering to adjust. He's leaving soon, anyway.

"But in all seriousness, you'll be driving me everywhere soon enough."

"I doubt it," she mutters. "But thanks. You make me feel brave."

He presses a kiss to her temple, his hand on her neck. "You make me feel like that, too. I, um, applied to some schools this week. Like, colleges."

"Edward!" she pushes him away, shocked excitement taking over her face. He smiles sheepishly.

"Who knows?" he says. "Maybe I'll get out of this place after all."

.

.

.

 _The good: edwardedwardedward_

 _The bad: what did jess mean by 'good luck when Lauren finds you'?_


	16. Chapter 16

**LayAtHomeMom rocks and makes this whole story better**

.

.

.

 _ **Full of only echoes and my body caving in,**_

 _ **a cathedral of arching ribs,**_

 _ **heaving out their broken hymns.**_

 _(julien baker)_

.

.

.

 **16.**

In the days that follow Edward's announcement about applying to schools, Bella notices a change in him, a hope that wasn't there before. A lightness to his eyes, the sudden enthusiasm he puts into his work at the hotel.

It's like the mere possibility of _escape_ is making him buoyant.

And as happy as she is for him, as fucking _proud_ she is at the chances he's taking, fear is niggling at her back of her mind.

He's going to leave.

And she's going to be alone.

Again.

He must notice her nervous silence, the way she clings to him too tightly when he drops her off at the hotel, whispering that he'll see her later and holds her close without letting go.

She spends her nights staring at the ceiling, listening to playlists he's put on her iPod, missing him as if he's already gone.

.

.

.

Over the next few weeks, Edward's time at the hotel dwindles. They're nearly done with everything, and nothing looks as it did when Bella first got there. Wall sconces are updated and modern, the floors are all a sleek laminate, Bella even has her own bathroom in what used to be a linen closet.

That being said, it's not that she sees him less, per se, but he isn't there every time she comes downstairs for a snack. He takes her driving and they walk on the beach and things are the _same_ but _not the same_ in a way that Bella can't quite put into words, instead letting the nagging feeling of dread take up residence in the pit of her stomach.

It doesn't help that tourist season is rapidly approaching and while everyone is technically _there_ , none of them are present. Renee is in full-on decorator mode, running in and out of the hotel with bags and boxes and rugs, while Rosalie barely even has the TV on anymore because the phone rings so often with reservations. Phil is lost to baseball season and more often than not, Bella comes home to a note and a $20 bill taped to the kitchen door, asking her to order a pizza and put the leftovers in the fridge when she's done.

Eventually, she just stops going to the hotel after school. She walks across town to the library, which takes her the better part of an hour, and hides out until Edward picks her up or it starts to get dark and she starts the trek to _Summer View_ , no matter how much she doesn't want to.

.

.

.

It's a Wednesday in April when Bella is knocked to the ground on her way to school. She lands hard on her ass and scrapes the palms of her hands, hit by a shop door that she didn't notice was opening.

"Oh my god I'm so-" The apology from whoever caused the scene is cut short. When Bella looks up, she sees why.

Lauren has a grocery bag in her hand and a look of pure irritation on her face, twisting her pink mouth into an angry grimace.

"It's _you_ ," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. She doesn't bother to help Bella up, but doesn't walk away.

"How's _my_ boyfriend?" Lauren asks in a way that suggests she in no way wants an answer. Bella wishes she could melt into the concrete. Lauren continues, "I know you're fucking him, I know all about the little games you played to take him." Lauren's voice rises in octave, definitely mocking as she whines, "Oh, poor Bella and her fucking dead dad."

Heat blooms across Bella's entire being, her eyes prick with tears.

"Yeah, that's right. He told me your whole sad story. He feels sorry for you, like a little puppy to nurse back to health. You think he has any real feelings for you? What have you ever done for _him_?" Lauren thumbs her own chest, over and over as she lists all the things Bella has _not_ done. " _I_ was the one with him when he was in that cast. _I_ was the one who drove him around and carried his backpack at school. _I_ was the one who was there for him when his whole stupid life fell apart. And you think you can just move here and steal him away when all the hard work is done? Fuck. You." She jabs a finger down at Bella in a way that makes her flinch.

"I…" Bella begins but the words die in her throat. Lauren smirks, leaning over her.

"Well, congratulations. He's going to leave and never come back. He's going to forget you ever existed, you little bitch, and you're going to be stuck here all. Alone. Just like the rest of us. Hope it was fucking worth it."

Bella recoils as Lauren straightens, stepping back, but not before hitting her with her grocery bag as she turns away. It could've been an accident but Bella knows better. It takes her a few minutes to get to her feet, her breath coming unevenly and shaking with unshed tears.

She knows that Lauren is hurt and angry and is trying to make her feel like garbage-but that doesn't make the feeling less real. Bella _does_ feel like garbage. Mission accomplished.

She tries to go to school, she really does, but she can't hold the tears in once she arrives. Instead, she turns and heads west, towards the library. She hides in the periodicals back issue section on the second floor, hidden from view, and lets herself cry.

.

.

.

"Where the _hell_ have you _been_?! I've been trying to get ahold of you all day!"

It takes a second for Bella to realize that Renee is talking to her, her puffy eyes adjusting to the bright light of the hotel lobby. Renee doesn't wait for an answer.

"The school called. They said you never showed up and jesus, Bella, I have enough to do without worry about where you are! I've been driving around for an hour looking for you and I missed my appointment with the upholstery place!" Renee slams her car keys down on the countertop to emphasize her annoyance. It's then that Bella notices that Rosalie is nowhere to be found, and she thinks that she's probably hiding out in the kitchen.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Renee demands. "Anyth-"

She's cut off by screaming. Bella's screaming. A lung-emptying howl of frustration that takes the both of them by surprise. As the sound dies, Renee can only blink.

"Do you even _hear yourself_?" Bella asks, throwing her hands up in total frustration. "It's all about _you_. Not that I could've been dead in a ditch but that you missed your stupid fucking appointment."

"Watch it-" Renee warns, but Bella ignores her.

"In case you haven't noticed, I am _not okay_. If you had paid even a little bit of actual attention to me this whole fucking year, you'd know that I am _drowning_. I hate it here! I hate this fucking place and I hate _you_!"

Renee narrows her eyes and sets her jaw, but Bella doesn't wait around for her to unleash whatever hell she has in store for her. She snatches the car keys off the counter and bolts for the door, running for the car with her mother close behind.

She's so pissed she doesn't even feel her usual pang of nervousness as she turns the ignition and throws the car into drive.

She doesn't know where she's going, she can't go to Edward and his pity, and there's no one else to see. So, she goes towards the bridge, the overwhelming need to _leave_ radiating off her entire being. The bridge is no problem as she passes over it, her speed rising higher and higher as she returns to land on the other side. She watches the speedometer rise with hysterical glee, laughter bubbling in her throat.

Until she sees the large, slow going turtle ahead of her. Right in the middle of her lane. She swerves to miss it, but she's going too fast. The tires squeal and she loses control of the wheel-of everything-screaming until there's a _crash_ , and everything is silent.

.

.

.

 _The good:_

 _The bad:_


	17. Chapter 17

**all my thanks to LayAtHomeMom**

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _ **You are an isle of calm on a stormy sea,**_

 _ **You really get me.**_

 _(the beths)_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 **17.**

"Young lady? Are you okay?"

There's tapping at the window, the man's voice is muffled as he peers in at Bella, face laced with concern. She's crying, silent tears running down her cheeks and she can't seem to catch her breath.

"Are you hurt?" he asks again, his gray hair blowing in the breeze, his eyes squinting behind his glasses. She sees a minivan parked behind her, its hazard lights flashing while an elderly woman sits in the passenger seat.

"I'm fine!" Bella assures him, her voice garbled and far too high to be convincing. She just needs him to leave, to let her fall apart in peace. He continues to stare at her and her fake smile starts to crumble and why won't he just _go away_.

"Leave me alone!" she cries. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

He holds his palms up at her, backing away and shaking his head. She waits until their van pulls back onto the road before she crawls out of the car, sobbing and trembling as she examines the popped front tire and the massive dent in the bumper. The turtle she'd tried to avoid is gone, across the road and hidden in the tall grass, and that's the only plus she can think of-she hadn't killed it. Examining the wheel again, it's obvious that she needs to change the tire, but she doesn't know how. Instead, she climbs into the back seat, curling in on herself as she lays across the seats, closing her eyes.

It takes maybe twenty minutes for another knock to sound on her window, though this time, it's a woman in a blue uniform frowning at her.

A cop.

A cop who is not her dad and who is opening the car door.

"Got a call from a guy about a hysterical teenager stuck on the side of the road," the officer says dryly. "I'm guessing that's you."

"I think I ran over a rock," Bella admits softly. "There was a turtle."

"Do you have a spare tire?"

Bella stares at her.

"I'd ask for license and registration but…"

"It's my mom's car," she explains. "I...kind of stole it."

"I think it's time we call her, then."

.

.

.

It's Phil who pulls Bella into a hug, not even acknowledging Office Jennings, who is actually pretty cool, Bella comes to find out as they wait for her mom.

"Are you okay?" he asks, holding her out at an arm's length when he's finished crushing her, examining her face.

"I'm fine," Bella insists, torn between dying of embarrassment and bursting into tears all over again.

Renee is deep in conversation with Officer Jennings, who already knows Bella's side of the story-all of it-her dad, moving, her emotional deterioration.

Jennings doesn't give her a ticket, though she tells Bella sternly to, "Wait until you get a license next time."

She winks at her though, and it makes Bella miss her dad so much her heart squeezes painfully in her chest.

"I won't report this," she continues, "but there are obviously some issues going on here. I suggest you go see someone. Both of you."

Phil finds the spare tire in the trunk of the SUV and goes to work changing it, Bella hovering next to him while her mother stands with her arms crossed over her chests, watching them expressionless. Jennings pats Bella on the shoulder as she goes back to her cruiser, flashing her lights once as she pulls away.

Renee insists that Phil takes the SUV back to the hotel with her and Bella following behind in case there's more damage than they can see on the surface, and grimaces when Bella gets into the backseat.

She's braced for the anxiety when the car starts, but it doesn't really come, overshadowed by the dread of spending the next however many minutes in a small enclosed space with her mother.

At the same time, they both blurt, "I'm sorry."

Renee glances at her in the rearview mirror.

"For you know...wrecking your car," Bella mumbles, looking away.

"I'm sorry I'm not very... _good_ at this whole motherhood thing."

Bella just nods absently, pulling her knees to her chest and closing her eyes.

.

.

.

Edward and Rosalie are in front of the hotel when they pull in, immediately getting to their feet when they see them arrive. Edward practically runs to Bella, his hand reaching for her face as soon as she's out of the car. He palms her cheek, looking her over for any serious injuries. She flinches away, Lauren's words from earlier roaring in her ears.

 _He feels sorry for you, like a little puppy to nurse back to health._

"Did I hurt you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm _fine_ ," she says for the umpteenth time, avoiding his eyes and focusing instead on the ground.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, when your mom called to see if I'd seen you and said you took the car-"

"Sorry to burden you," she mutters, pushing past him.

"Bella, that's not what I-"

"Go home, Cullen," Phil tells him softly. "It's been a hard day. For everyone."

Bella doesn't wait to see if he stays or goes, just makes her way past Rosalie and into the lobby.

"We'll talk about this in the morning," Renee calls after her retreating form. Bella ignores her, heading upstairs and falling into bed, exhausted.

.

.

.

 _You're going to be stuck here. All alone._

 _You're going to be stuck here. All alone._

 _Stuck here._

 _Alone._

Bella can't go back to sleep. It's just after four in the morning, and she's staring at the wall, replaying everything Lauren said to her.

Edward had texted her once, just to say that he was there if she wanted to talk, but she ignored the message.

She wishes she could just be _angry_ with him. Missing him _and_ being afraid of her feelings for him is making her a wreck. She needs to put distance between them, but the mere thought nearly chokes her.

 _Okay_ , she replies to his text. His response comes almost instantly.

 _I can be there whenever you want me to be._

Her eyes water. _Now?_

Another quick reply: _be there in a few._

.

.

.

He meets her outside the hotel, his hair wild as he pulls her towards the bed of the truck, helping her up on the open gate where they sit, side by side, cloaked in silence and starlight.

Edward speaks first. "Alice said you weren't in school, and when your mom called, I just…"

"I ran into Lauren on my way to school."

He lets out a hiss through his teeth. "What did she do?"

Bella shrugs and simply says, "told me the truth."

He frowns, willing her to look at him, but she won't. She can't.

"I don't know what she said," he tells her lowly. "But it definitely wasn't the truth."

"It is though!" she cries, her cool facade cracking. "You _are_ leaving. And I'm happy for you, I'm so, so happy that you're doing that...but...when you're gone…" Her voice breaks. "And you don't have to be so concerned about me-I'm not some pathetic girl you need to save."

Deep down, though, she's terrified that she _is_ that girl.

Edward gets to his feet, standing in front of her with his hands gripped around the bare skin of her arms.

"You are _not_ pathetic," he says. "And I'm not trying to save you. If anything, Bella, you saved _me_. Those first weeks you were here, you were so...broken. And I was broken, too. I wanted to be near you, to _know_ you-because it felt like you might actually get it. Get me. Everything was so fucking _lonely_ before you got here. Halloween-you laughed that day and it was...I wanted to see that again. Do you know how hard it was to not seek you out every free moment I had? Fuck, Bella, from that first laugh I wanted you. And every laugh and tear and sarcastic fucking comment since, I'm in it. I'm so tangled up in you, Bella, every part of you."

Despite the tears flowing freely down her cheeks and his heaving breaths, she pulls him to her, trapping him between her legs and kissing him hard.

"I'm in love with you," he says when they break apart, tugging a hand through her hair, his eyes a sea of want and tenderness.

She finds his lips again, whispering her own sweet response against them, his smile swallowing the words.

.

.

.

 _The good: him._

 _The bad: the rest._


	18. Chapter 18

LayAtHomeMom is an angel for prereading this.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **This is where it ends and then begins again**_

 _(oso oso)_

 **18.**

"So, Bella, this is our third session and I still feel like you're holding back."

Bella stares at the floor, avoiding Kate's gaze and accusation. She'd told her at their first session that she didn't have to talk if she wasn't ready. But now...even with her minimal admissions, it seems that time is up on the coddling.

She likes Kate, with her pastel colored clothes and kind smile. The problem is that Bella just has no idea what to say. Ever.

To anyone really, not just her.

Kate glances back to her clipboard before she says, "I'm not trying to force you to do anything you don't want to do. _I_ don't want anything from you, but what do _you_ want?"

Bella slumps onto the back of the couch, her feet lifting off the worn carpet. What _does_ she want?

Right now she just wants to go to Edward's house and curl into his side until she falls asleep. But in the long run? Jesus.

She hadn't really thought about it.

"I…" she begins, her voice cracking. "I want to be okay again."

"How do you define 'okay'?"

Because if that's her goal, she should be able to put that into words right?

Kate sees her hesitation, the apprehension in her eyes as she does, and smiles softly.

"Maybe we can start there."

.

.

.

Edward finds her in her bedroom after school the next day, paint flecked across his t-shirt. She's on her bed, bent over a notebook and chewing on a pen.

"Homework?" he asks, climbing into bed beside her,pressing a kiss against her bare shoulder.

"Sort of," she murmurs. "Kate's making me track my mood throughout the week, to get a baseline, I guess."

"How's that going?"

"Okay. I mean, I never really realized how...middle of the road I am the majority of the time. It's almost like...I'm just, _blank_."

His brows furrow, but he doesn't try to tell her that isn't true, just waits for her to continue.

"I told her I want to be _okay_. But I don't know what that means. I googled it and it's defined as 'satisfactory or under control.' That doesn't sound like a good life…it sounds...like nothing at all."

"Is that what you really want?" he asks softly, tracing lazy circles on her thigh.

"I thought so," she tells him. "But maybe I'm already just _okay_."

"You could always aim higher," he tells her. "You could try to shoot for _happy_."

"I don't know how to be happy on my own. I'm happy when I'm with you or Alice or Rosalie but…"

"You'll figure it out, Bella. And I'm here in whatever way you need me."

Her heart stutters at the sentiment, at the way his hand pauses its circles and moves to hold her hand.

"In whatever way, huh?" she asks with a smirk.

His eyes darken as they dart to her lips, pulling her mouth to meet his, holding her face impossibly close as he tells her, "Absolutely."

And with his mouth on hers and his hands exploring the scarred skin beneath her shirt, she feels wanted and beautiful and she wonders how in the world she's going to survive it when he leaves her.

.

.

.

"He got into college," Bella says by way of greeting to Kate. She's been seeing her for close to two months and Kate almost feels like a cool older sister at this point, who her mom happens to pay in order to avoid any other outbursts like the one with the car.

Kate freezes, then asks, "Where?"

"Washington D.C. 10 hours and 18 minutes away."

Shell-shocked is the only way she can describe how she's feeling.

So unbelievably, incandescently happy for him, but also...numb. As if it hasn't really hit her yet.

He'd been messing around on his phone, waiting for her to take her turn on TriviaCrack when he got the email and nearly threw his phone across the room.

"Jesus christ," Bella had hissed, her own phone falling to the floor with a clatter in surprise.

"I...I got accepted!" he told her, his voice rising with every word. "I'm in, I'm going to D.C. I'm going to…" and then his voice broke, his eyes wet with unshed tears, but his grin was unwavering.

He'd pulled her to him then, crushing her in his arms against his chest while she laughed with him, breathless and pushing away those horrible feelings because _no one_ deserved this more than Edward Cullen.

But then the other shoe dropped.

"He's taking some summer courses," Bella continues to Kate. "He's leaving in a month."

A month.

"Oh, Bella," Kate sighs. "I don't even know what to say."

"Me either," she whispers and dissolves into tears. Tears because he's going to be gone so, so soon, and because she...won't.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rosalie is waiting for her in the lobby when she's done with her session with two slushies.

"Your mom had to meet with some website guy or something and asked if I could come grab ya," she explains, handing Bella one of the drinks. Blue raspberry. Her favorite.

"Thanks, Rose."

"Anything to get me out of the hotel. I'm soooo bored. I mean, it'll start to pick up soon but in the meantime...ugh."

Bella just nods, silently sipping at her slushie as they make their way into the evening sun. It takes a total of three minutes once they're in the car for Rose to start talking about exactly what Bella doesn't want to discuss at all.

"Carlisle says Edward's headed to D.C. in May."

"Yup."

Rosalie's eyes dart to her.

"I'm sure you're sick of talking about it, but I just wanted to tell you that no matter what happens, I'm here for you. I like hanging out with you, Bella. I know I'm not that much older than you but you're like...the little sister I never had...and I just want you to be happy."

It's embarrassing, the way Bella's eyes well up, but she breaks into a watery grin when she sees that Rosalie is crying, too.

"God, I'm such a wreck. Em and I have been trying to get pregnant and they've got me on all these hormones."

Bella slaps her hand on the dashboard, Rosalie hitting the brakes in alarm.

"You _are_?!" she nearly shrieks. "Oh, Rose, that's amazing. You'd be such a great mom."

Rosalie beams, flushing at the compliment, as she goes on venting about the struggle they're having. As she talks, something settles in Bella's chest, something a little like hope.

Like joy.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Her mom comes home with a pizza, doing a double take when she sees Bella sitting in the dining room. It's part of her homework this week from Kate, the challenge to not lock herself in her room, to make an effort to form positive connections with the family she has.

"Hey," Bella says, glancing up from her math book. "How'd the meeting about the website go?"

Renee hesitates for a second, eyebrows raised before she says, "it was really good, actually. It's all up and running and they showed me how we can take online reservations now."

"That'll be convenient," Bella replies, closing her book. Renee nods, and it's obvious that she wants to talk more about the site, but she stops herself.

Instead, she asks, "how's your day going?"

And for once, Bella tells her all about it.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It's dark by the time Edward swings by, though as summer looms, the oranges and pinks of the sunset is lingering longer than usual.

"It's official. I have a loan and a roommate I found online," he says, pulling her close to him under the dim light of the street lamp.

"Those don't sound like good things, to be honest," she teases as he presses his lips to her neck.

"As long as he doesn't end up murdering me I think it's a win."

"Such low standards," she murmurs with a smirk that fades as they fall into silence, embracing each other loosely.

She clings to him, fingers grasping at his t-shirt.

"I'm going to miss you," she murmurs. "So, so much."

She feels him kiss her hair, whispering, "Me too. But you'll just have to get your license and come visit me."

"You sure I won't be cramping your style with the co-eds?" She's trying to be playful, but her anxiety seeps into her voice.

He lifts her chin so that their foreheads are nearly flush.

"I love you, Bella. Distance won't change that. And I can't see the future," he squeezes her hand. "But I promise to try, if you will, too."

She can only nod, but it's enough for him to smile and _that's_ enough for her to ask him, "would you teach me how to play baseball?"

The sudden meeting of their lips is answer enough.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _The good: I don't think I need these lists anymore._

.

.

.

 **Sorry for the delay, all! I've been slammed this summer, but we're…almost done with this thang. Thanks for stickin with it.**


	19. Chapter 19

.

.

.

 _ **My heart's a hundred tiny creatures that live and sway**_

 _ **Where I am, but also far away**_

 _ratboys_

 _ **.**_

.

.

"Choke up on the bat a little. Are you ready?"

"If you hit me with that ball I will never forgive you."

"Shut up, Bella."

She hits a foul, but at least she's made contact. Edward is _whooping_ and celebrating her terrible hit with so much pride and gusto that it makes her laugh, throwing her arms in the air in victory.

They've taken to playing baseball in an empty field behind the library. The grass is a little high and they get so many mosquito bites that Bella practically bathes in calamine lotion every night, but it's...her favorite thing. Edward is in his element when he's teaching her, endlessly patient and so, so _joyful._

School is ending and the days are growing longer and hotter and Bella knows that her time with Edward is dwindling, but she tries not to let herself dwell on it.

"Want to try again?" Edward calls, already holding up a spare ball and grinning like mad.

"Duh."

.

.

.

Bella and Rosalie stare at the pregnancy test on the reception desk, sealed carefully in a ziplock bag.

"I probably shouldn't carry this around. It's gross, right? But like, _look_! I'm _pregnant_!" Rosalie laughs and then promptly starts to cry.

"Good lord," Bella mutters teasingly. Rosalie snatches the test off the desk and hides it in her purse.

"If you thought pre-pregnancy hormonal Rose was bad, just you wait," Emmett pipes up from the hallway. "Already crying again, babe? I think that's a new record. Ten whole minutes."

"You guys are assholes," Rose sniffles, though she's smiling. "I'm growing new life, you have to be nice to me."

"We'll try our best," Em says as he makes his way to her, leaning over the reception desk to kiss her forehead before he goes back to the kitchen.

Rosalie takes a breath and says, "I'm already so nauseous, I don't know what I'm going to do when things pick up here. Sprint to the bathroom between guests? Keep a bucket in my lap?"

"I can always help out," Bella tells her. "I'll probably just hang around here all summer anyway." What else is there for her to do with Edward gone?

Rosalie beams, tears already threatening to spill once more, and this is how Bella gets her first job.

.

.

.

Bella and Alice skip prom. Edward and Jasper keep offering to take them, but they decide against it anyway, not particularly wanting to hang out with their classmates more than they already have to. Besides, they have something else planned.

Instead, the girls head to the nearest city (Alice driving them in Edward's truck-Bella is still forbidden from being behind the wheel, but Renee signed her up for driver's ed the week before), and hunt for dresses in thrift stores.

"Look at these!" Alice cries, passing a section of knick-knacks on their way to the register. She's gesturing excitedly to a pair of matching bedazzled picture frames. "How fun would these be for our 'prom' pics!"

Bella pays for both of them, her heart thrumming with happy excitement over the prospect of having something worth framing.

The night of the prom, Alice and Bella get ready together, doing their hair and makeup and laughing at their obviously thrifted outfits, but Bella likes the way the long, chiffon skirt of her dress swishes around her legs, even though it's this horrible seafoam green color. Alice takes scissors to her own dress, shortening it a little _too_ much but thinks it's so funny she puts on a pair of Christmas themed pajama shorts just in case she flashes anyone.

Edward holds Bella's hand the whole walk to the beach, where he plays music quietly from a positively ancient looking portable boombox as they eat takeout under the fading light of day. Alice pulls out her Polaroid camera and they take turns snapping cheesy prom photos of each other.

They dance, Edward holding Bella closely as they sway, drifting closer and closer to the surf. The hem of Bella's dress is soaked from the crashing waves, hanging heavy and tangling around her ankles.

Neither of them mention the fact that in four days, Edward will be gone.

.

.

.

They say goodbye before the sun rises, the stars still visible overhead.

His family hasn't come outside yet and Bella has a feeling that it's so the two of them can have some time alone before the big send-off. Before he climbs into his truck and starts the long trip north to school.

She's silent, afraid that if she opens her mouth, she'll start crying and never be able to stop.

"I'll be back during my fall break," he promises. "And once you get your license, you'll have to come visit. There are so many cool things to do there, I'll show them all to you."

He's starting to ramble, his eyebrows pulling together with every word and his voice breaks as he adds softly, "I'm going to miss you."

It's enough for her own face to crumple, the floodgate opening as he pulls her close, his fingers digging painfully into her back but it's still not enough. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small, scroll shaped shell she'd found on the beach yesterday, nearly identical to the one he'd given her all those months ago.

"The sea will miss you so, so much," she tells him, pressing it into his hand. "It will miss you more with every mile put between you."

He kisses her, and there's nothing gentle about it, all desperate closeness and salty from Bella's tears.

"You're going to be amazing," she gasps, catching her breath when they break apart. "And I'm so proud of you."

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

She stands red-faced and tear-stained next to Alice when it's finally time for him to go, clutching her friend's hand tightly, watching the truck coast down the street, until it turns, and he's gone.

.

.

.

The last days of school are a welcome distraction from the crushing loneliness she feels with Edward's departure. He's in constant contact with her, calling at night and texting throughout the day, but she misses that solid warmth of his body next to hers.

He starts sending her mix CDs in the mail and she sends him seashells in return, and those physical objects bring a level of closeness that makes her feel like she can breathe again.

Rosalie is puking all the time, so Bella learns the ropes for the reception desk fairly quickly, her first day of summer spent checking people into their rooms and taking what feels like an endless stream of reservations. Her mom hovers, but for once, Bella is relieved by her presence. Knowing that Renee has her back is something she'd never thought she'd crave.

On her afternoons off, she practices hitting the baseball with Phil, or she and Alice go to the beach and people watch. Seeing the island so full of people seems so strange to Bella now, having only seen it in the season before. But there are families and groups of college kids and biker gangs all over the place. It's as if the whole island is awake. Alive, even.

And even though Edward is far away and her dad is still gone and that feeling of _lostness_ nearly smothers her sometimes, Bella thinks that maybe she's finally alive, too,

.

.

.

 _The End._


	20. epilogue

**LayAtHomeMom is the best.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

" _ **Gonna call the doctor doctor**_

 _ **Just tell him that my pain is gone**_

 _ **It's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone."**_

 _Karen o_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

It takes almost an hour for Bella Swan to unpack her boxes. Half of the clothes she's collected over the past two years are totally useless as soon as summer gives way to fall, so she's left them back in her room at the hotel, Renee promising that she will leave her stuff alone. She's got her grandmother's quilt on her bed and her toiletries are packed neatly away in their caddy near her dresser. Her fern has taken up residence on her bedside table along with a small dish of seashells that sits on top of a stack of homemade CDs. In a simple wooden frame below the CDs is a picture of her and her father. It's old, from Bella's first day of Kindergarten and it makes her chest swell with emotion at the thought of him being there with her for her first day of college, in the only way he can be now.

She's grateful for the fact that her roommate won't be here until tomorrow morning, letting her settle into her side of the room before she has to make small talk with a stranger. Not that Charlotte is completely a stranger, they've been texting since dorm assignments came out, but still. She lays back on her bed, eyes traveling over her walls, the walls that started out an empty, off white but are now covered in pictures and posters-evidence of a life lived. A life that _Bella's_ lived.

There's a picture of her and a very pregnant Rosalie on Halloween, the latter decked out in head to toe blue and purple, a Violet Beauregard turning very, _very_ violet as she expands. For once, no one else had the same costume on. Next to it is a photo of Bella with Lily McCarty, born almost too early right after the New Year. Bella holds her in her white dress, grinning with joy (and a little embarrassment) as the newly appointed godmother.

She feels a pang at the sight of the baby, knowing that next time she sees her, she's going to be so big.

In a cluster nearby are a collection of pictures of Bella and Alice. Grinning and wearing mud masks. Lounging on the beach in sunglasses. Eating pizza on a Saturday night at the hotel. Clutching each other tightly at graduation. Bella grabs her phone and texts Alice that she's made it to school okay and asks how she's liking her roommate at USC.

Then, she texts Edward.

As she waits for his reply, she assesses the area above her desk, most of the wall space there is taken over by her Frida Kahlo poster, but there are ticket stubs and postcard-sized prints from the National Gallery, all purchased on her first visit to DC under the guise of a college visit, though it was mostly to see Edward. It was winter break, and he'd taken her to so many museums and coffee shops between long stretches of time spent at his apartment with tangled limbs and eager kisses.

Edward doesn't respond to her text.

Instead, there's a knock at her door twenty minutes later. She opens the door to reveal her boyfriend grinning at her. She's in his arms in an instant.

"I told you to call me when you got here," Edward says. "I would've helped you move in."

"There wasn't that much to move," she assures him, stepping back. He's got on a rec league t-shirt and his signature faded jeans, though he's got sneakers on instead of his work boots. There's a little bit of ink smeared onto his hand, which means that he's been drawing and designing and it makes Bella smile. His hair is a little too long and her fingers tangle in the ends of it as he kisses her.

"I can't believe you're finally here," he says against her lips.

"Me either," she breathes because after more than a year apart aside from few and far between visits, they're in the same city again.

He rests his chin on top of her head, not quite ready to let go of her yet, and looks around the room, taking in the space that is now hers.

"So this is home, huh?" he asks and she can practically hear him smirking.

She pulls him impossibly closer and says, "yes. This is home."

.

.

.

Ack! Sorry all, I thought that I had said in an AN that an epi was coming but I obviously did not. I might post some future takes in the future, but for now this is complete. Thanks for sticking with it.


End file.
